The cyclops, ostracized by the hero unjust,
his pent up rage taken out on those in need.
The hero, ignorance and arrogance plaguing his speech,
he does not ask, but demands as though he is a king.
My darling beast, your eye shot and boiled,
the humans deserve your fury.
Hate him, curse him, rip his hope from his chest.
Throw your boulders and cry for help.
My monster, you are like me.
Use your mind and body for revenge.
Those ruins of the past, they haunt us to this day.
Those humans, they hate us.
Together we shall make them decay.
YOU ARE READING
Hope in the Dark
PoetryA collection of poems about experiences and thoughts I've had in the few years I've been alive. Some are recent pieces, others are from middle school. This collection is somewhat in order, and I leave in the older ones in to show other young writers...
