The posion of power.
The small become sour.
The break of boundaries.
The weak no longer worth pennies.
The loss of taste.
The humanity only a waste.
The mighty disintegrate or linger in pages.
The enimies, too many to fit in cages.
The strong breath until defeated.
The meak never even sated.
The fall is due to time or bitter, bitter betrayal.
The traitors become heroes or fail.
The grave widens, embracing the fallen.
The eyes of the tough will drag more down, sreams never forgotten.
Death greets all, no matter how you fall.
Ending each victor and victim alike.
No one escapes this fight.
YOU ARE READING
Dizzy to the Point of Exhaustion
PoetryPoems. I know. I am incredibly deep and see meaning in everything. Jokes. Hopefully this doesn't suck. warning: some of these poems definitely kinda suck... oops! #881 in poetry March 4th, 2017👀 #463 in poetry March 9th, 2017😮 #348 in poetry Ma...
