Submit your work, meet writers and drop the ads. Become a member
May 2020
in a circle, they chant, “something wicked this way comes”

they are correct;
i am wicked;
and i am coming;

i arise from the ember and ashes;
teeth like fangs;
claws as fingers;

i wield power spoken true by revenge as they whisper, “now you become chaos. you are destruction.”

finally, i speak:
”who’s next?”
Written by
theladyeve
105
   Imran Islam and Colm
Please log in to view and add comments on poems