i am
angry.

i am
sick.

i am angry, and i am sick, and i am ******* tired.

my body is rotting,
my hands shake.
but,
i am Achilles.
best of the Greeks,
angry and righteous and terrible.
i brought the pestilence to your home- it will **** your sheep.
it will **** your flock, your herd, your crowd, your audience, mister.
after it’s killed everyone else, it will come for you.

it will taste like ginger.
like tumeric.
like sulfur burning your lungs.

there will be nothing to shield you,
no trust fund,
no banks,
no lying sons and daughters who feed only on your game.

the disease will have killed them,
it will be because of me.
the sun is mad, it’s betrayed you.
because of me.

when you look at your empire for the last time,
you will see me,
burning and rotting and

smiling.