To My Wayward Sons (Supernatural Poetry)

The Flight of the Winchesters

Who knew that a singular

Spoon to the gaped mouth

Would spark the long war

To end dignity and doubt?

Perhaps none of the angels

Can stop this vengeful gale

Of two brothers with a quest

For the other to thus prevail

Armed with quick weapons

And even quicker cleverness

To get the other's surrender

Means of underhandedness

Grenades of inflammation

Glass along cyanoacrylate

Playing the other as the fool

In this battle that they waged

Yet the shots shall ceasefire

When the winds turn to sing

And a sole target is initiated

To be their unwilling victim

It's against both parties, true

And aggravation might ensue

But this war is not for anarchy

But for brotherly camaraderie.

~*~

(Happy first of April hunters! That is to say, happy April Fools day! And if you didn't get the memo, yes, I just wrote a super dramatic epic about Sam and Dean...pranking each other. Spoon to the mouth, itching powder ('grenades of inflammation'), supergluing a beer bottle ('glass along cyanoacrylate'), the works. Goteem)