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That Which Cannot Be Mended
I stood before the council
 And they passed judgment
 Never, they shouted,
 Never again
 Shall this creature
 Touch upon our streets
 Nor foul our air
 Nor mold our bread
 Let it be kept in the dungeon
 Until, in the purity
 Of the laden moon
 We cast it
 Into the Lands of Filth
 
 A gaping hole
 Was ripped in my heart
 I tried to fill it
 With rage
 How could they dare
 To banish me
 To name me a “creature”
 An “it”
 When I was foremost
 Among them
 Their kin
 Their savior
 
 None in the Lands of Filth
 Were safe
 From my wrath
 But I took no joy
 In the slaughter of savages 
 Only one thing
 Could satisfy the beast in my soul
 Many years
 It took me
 Many long years
 Of bitter scheming
 Before opportunity
 Came to call
 
 And now?
 With the corpses
 Of my hated foes
 Cold beneath my feet?
 The hole
 Is still there
 And the beast
 Lurks within
 
 The hour is come
 That my dream
 Is fulfilled
 And the hour is past
 That my life
 May return

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This article has 25 comments.
I liked it! its really powerful. I love your thought prosses behind it!!
Could you maybe read one of my poems i dont care wich one you pick.
 
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Favorite Quote:
Gil: I would like you to read my novel and get your opinion. <br /> Ernest Hemingway: I hate it. <br /> Gil: You haven't even read it yet. <br /> Ernest Hemingway: If it's bad, I'll hate it. If it's good, then I'll be envious and hate it even more. You don't want the opinion of another writer.