Victory is mine your hope has died,
laying bloodied with no pride.
I've concurred you.
Get up and kneel to my view.
I'm not asking, get, move,
there's nothing left for me to prove.
You're now slave to me,
kiss the boot you see.
I'll spare you from my gun,
now get up and fucken run.
The prey to me.
I'm the last they see.
At this count of ten the lie ends.
This bullet towards it I'll send.
-
Author:
Maplespal (Pseudonym) (
Offline)
- Published: September 13th, 2025 06:44
- Category: Unclassified
- Views: 10
Comments2
Poem of power. A declaration of victory. Powerfully worded it sends the vanquished flying
I feel the anger and the power quite strongly. Very nice.
To be able to comment and rate this poem, you must be registered. Register here or if you are already registered, login here.