Cut off the head
twist the blade
burn the stump
rub in the salt
repeat.
You think you've got a chance at hurting me?
You think you'll put a dent in my pride?
I wish you the best of luck, because honestly,
people better than you have tried.
You think I'll go down easy?
You think I won't fight?
You think I'll let you win?
Over my dead body.
I'll leave you a bloody mess,
a wreck,
a tragedy,
a sob story.
There will be stories about it
warning others of your fate.
So sir, I'll warn you one last time:
turn back before it's too late.
YOU ARE READING
Thoughts and Things
PoetryA thing. A thing in which I write some poetry. I've never really written much poetry, so... yeah. Exciting. It can get spooky sometimes. (By spooky, I mean that it can get dark. Trigger warning in advance, just in case.) Tread lightly. I'm obviously...
