The Village And The Troll Poem by Anne Janette Natividad

I am a lonely village
smaller than small
I am a weak village
with no life at all

No there's a crazy troll
A giant, A beast
with an axe, he attacks
Every blood-curdling night
He's a devil who preys
but there's no hero this time

A heavy swing, A heavy whack
Flying around, that crazy axe
There goes my dirty houses
made with a ripple of hope
now nothing more than rubble
There falls the once proud council
built unwillingly, an unwanted child
and there goes everything else

I cry, flooding with tears
No more! It hurts!
But the village's pain
Is but the Troll's winning gain

The sun has woken
The troll finally slept like a log
O his snoring, is the banshee's ugly screech
But the pain in the ears
is a bliss, a relief

The crazy circus has packed up
but there will be a show tonight, alright!
O such pain, such trauma
is tonight's genre
Watch the dog's
Agonizing, painful, hilarious
Cries for an uncaring God
O heavens, Misery is such a long drive

I am a small village
My last gaze for a night's scarlet moon
My final weeps, My final breath
For tonight's show
For tonight's pleasure
My tears and blood
Shall paint everything red