Villain
Villain
I wade into the dark chambers
Opening rusted doors
Walking on creaky floors,
It is stuffy down here
A slow asphyxiation
I pore over the clutter, in trepidation.
Ah, something just hurt my feet!
Delicate piece of artificial glass, bright and brittle
Like my shattered ego, fragile and fickle.
A putrid smell from a dark corner
Dried up brine and decayed leaves
Like my fungus-ridden jar of pickled grief
The old and rusted metal chair
Made a screechy noise when I feebly drag
Like the silent noises in my head that rag.
Can you see that rooted piece of wooden bed?
Stubborn and heavy with larger silhouettes
Like my elephantine guilt and regrets.
Crippling ache invades my being
I am about to collapse; I have never been sicker
In that instant I see a feeble light flicker
Give me more oil, send me more wood
To fuel the fire that shall light up the skies
To burn the trash; to touch a few lives.
Beware of this fist-sized villain
Endowed with a single pump and four gas chambers
Incinerate his stashed up clutter by stoking Hope’s embers.