Hello PoetryVoting

Vote

Voting-Boards

Home

HomeFollowingInboxNotifications

Read

ReadLiftedFeedsHeartedHistoryMy poemsNew poem

Explore

ExploreOrbitsWordsTagsClassics
Log in
0
Stars
0
Embers
0
Alerts
0
Inbox

Vote

Voting-Boards

Home

HomeFollowingInboxNotifications

Read

ReadLiftedFeedsHeartedHistoryMy poemsNew poem

Explore

ExploreOrbitsWordsTagsClassics
Log in
0
Stars
0
Embers
0
Alerts
0
Inbox

A prelude to catastrophe

If there ever was man who could burn a bridge... ...I’d set fire to the village. I’d kidnap the mayor, hold him for ransom and cut off his head after the note was paid. I’d pour salt on the fields, spill blood in the river, and drip poison in the wells. I’d kill your first born. If there ever was a man who could burn a bridge, I’m your man… …and there aren't many roads left that lead to my village.
Request permission to use this poem
Written by
p-s-bravo
American
Published
Aug 18, 2013
Lines·Words
9·81
Permission

Request to use this poem

Tell p-s-bravo how you would like to use it. We review requests before forwarding them.

AboutBlogFAQPrivacyTermsContact
© 2009-2026 Hello Poetry/v27.0 by @eliotyork
Explore
Hello PoetryVoting
Write