The Courier

Trieste

Many battles I fought

Many lives I lost

Through years of endless skirmish

At last I rest in the pool of wishes

 

The reason ask my sword

The knowledge ask my shield

The guilt remembered me that

Death once told me

"No water can cleanse your soul"

 

And there I was hoping the pool of blood

Could cease the apokalyptic storm in my mind

I stand one more time to finish what I started 

 

But this time to murder the ones who give me this dolorous task 

No mercy for them

No light upon them

No pray will keep them safe

 

They sent their best forces

Just to watch them suffer

These beings

So indiferent

So careless

So cynic

 

Once my hands are on them

They will scream

They will beg for me to kill them already

And I will keep them suffering through eternities

Paying for every soul they made me murder

For every child, for every unborn 

 

 

26.09.19

  • Author: The Sacrifice (Pseudonym) (Offline Offline)
  • Published: October 1st, 2022 07:31
  • Comment from author about the poem: Tis not a poem
  • Category: Sad
  • Views: 6
Get a free collection of Classic Poetry and subscribe to My Poetic Side ↓

Receive the ebook in seconds 50 poems from 50 different authors Weekly news



To be able to comment and rate this poem, you must be registered. Register here or if you are already registered, login here.