Oh Brutus, virtuous Brutus,
Wherefore art thou, noble Roman?
Deceived by your own,
To have your hands tainted,
By the blood of a beloved
Those eyes that did see
A reality that would have never been
To place faith in a tree
Whose fruits could not be seen
Oh Brutus, virtuous Brutus,
Wherefore art thou, noble Roman?
That did act upon the accord of vile offenders
To commit a deed that was not without internal strife
Blinded by a pursuit of justice,
The road to hell was surely paved with good intentions
Those prayers you did so faithfully practice,
Will no longer divert the vengeful gods of their attention
Oh Brutus, virtuous Brutus,
Wherefore art thou, noble Roman?
The tale of a tragic hero,
That sought to free those living under freedom
Let the banks of Tiber overflow,
With tears that are grief driven
Let us look upon the matter with sorrow
That this cruel world did appoint noble Brutus, a villain
YOU ARE READING
Contemplative Poetry
PoesíaA collection of poetry I made in my spare time. Please excuse the story cover, I am not an artist.
