Saturday, June 5, 2010

“Sonnet to Your Defeat”


From the catacombs an echo is heard
Rotting skulls rolling around, absurd
Where the light travels underground
Is where your deathbed can be found
My wings will spread and I will not fail
I will not cower for I am no longer frail
I am on my rise and I shall never halt
Dear treasured spirit, this is your fault
And this is where my sword will rest
Alas, buried deep inside of your chest
There is no hope for you dearest rival
They’ll mourn as they witness my revival
An ending draws near as darkness falls
With your blood I shall paint the walls

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