What a strange occurrence,
in time our courage is to flourish,
only for our lives to vanish.
An endless loop of fate,
where destiny we cannot create.
Every so often a hopeful soul comes,
To lay it all down for the hero he could become.
I have seen it all before,
Hope I no longer long for.
Yet this boy wishes only to slaughter,
glory or fame he is not after.
I will follow him and his malevolent wrath,
in shambles I will walk upon the aftermath.
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Poetic Music
PoetryA collection of poems written to soundtracks which are there for you to play.
