The Epic of Heroes,
is spoken by the tongues of men
written by the quills of the gods
and carved by the destiny of creation.
Then if this holds true
the hero who had failed us now
and who surrendered to the enemy,
he is my rival, my foe
whom I look at bitterly
for he had delivered us
unto evil
and into hell.
Now the gods themselves
have abandoned me
and all those among me.
Have we not provided good offerings?
I cry out to the divines above me,
"This was our fattiest cow
on our altar which we killed
our most innocent lamb
that bled for us
the limbs of the perfect creature,
who was torn apart!"
We have known no life,
except a pious one.
Yet we are rewarded
as if we have sinned.
Certainly, then the gods
favor our enemies
for even fate itself hates
the face and soul of my race.
Upon this weary coast
to there, in blood-soaked plains
this vastness I cannot describe
with any worldly words alone.
Who has truly seen all things
if they had not heard their people cry
weeping for their sovereignty
their dignity
stripped and ripped from children
as if they were wild beasts
of this earth?
Hound dogs
who have smelt of many horrid things
like the rot of the soil
and bones of the dead
dare not cross the boundaries
that have been formed
by the corpses of my people.
It had been numerous
the causalities
seen as a tragedy by God
but was seen
as another day passed
to them against me.
How lonely it must be
to be the only
civilized man
among barbarians.
Barbarians disguised
as wise sages
who know nothing
but to cause torment
and agony on the weak!
I pity me
and all those who are alive among me
for it is in times like this
that I am grateful
that the slaughtered are dead
and spiteful that I live.
What horrid fate is this
that I must witness the destruction
of all which is sacred and Holy
of all which my eye can behold
curated and orchestrated,
sorely on the whims
of a distant conqueror
I have yet to know?
I only know of his heart
which has been revealed
through his various evils
of which he had bestowed
upon this land.
I know of him
and I know him as wicked
for if he is Satan,
then I am Lord.
I will rain down retribution
and do unto them
what had been done
unto me.
YOU ARE READING
A Collection of Various Poetic Musings: Vol 1
PoetryA Collection of Various Poetic Musings, a collection of some of the poems I have ever written thus far, is to be divided into multiple volumes as I write more poems. Fun and short read. By Poet Vincent Francis. (Each Volume will be around 4 chapters...
