Submit your work, meet writers and drop the ads. Become a member
Sep 2017
Be careful, on the ground; there is a little hole.
That's where I'll cause you a flesh wound;
I am going to cook you and eat you with the mole,
For all behold the lower bound.

For all seek the pain,
For all seek the gain,
A scythe of blood,
A pile of food.

It is your choice,
Either be brave or greedy,
In a world of voice,
In the world of needy;

Ready you must be.
For the battle that approaches,
Mount on the bee,
Call the cockroaches.

The clash is almost at the end,
For shall we win,
In a world of fiend,
A hero's legend shall begin.

We won, you say.
The world is now in peace,
As the world pays,
Everyone wants a piece.

In the discord of the world,
In the hell of the oceans,
There is a Netherworld.
As order approaches; arises the emotions,

The men become weaker,
The fields dry;
As the man eats his *******,
Everyone becomes shy.

At the horizon, a ship comes;
Marked on it is a cross,
As it comes, hit the drums,
In a sea of disorder, full of moss.

The men leave their boat,
And greet us with great hope.
As the hope arises, there is a bloat.
It is a frog; with little less rope.

We have finished, the mayor said.
A republic is set, our home, our land.
He called his maid;
We were all wrong, we were misled.

As the republic falls, the men watch.
On their eagle eyes,
The city is on the notch,
As the revolution approaches, they said yes.

After plenty of years, a decision came.
As we left the island;
They said: Let's make it the same.
Everyone came back, except for the land.

The land was no longer ours,
It was a memory of who we were.
As the juice pours,
Something did occur.
My first poem; translated it to Latin as well.
Written by
Mason Stewart
  488
   V, Nico Julleza and pearlianne
Please log in to view and add comments on poems