Hi, everyone, it's Justin with a very much belated post. I promise to write poetry every Monday and Friday, so here is this poem inspired by a character that has been bouncing around in my head. I often try to understand my characters through thoughts, and while it isn't realistic at all, it is so awesome to make your villain a poet.
Beauty in Destruction
I find beauty in the solemn nature of apocalypse,
As I bathe in its ruinous wake.
The thick smog covers the air, oppressing those
Who only vie for liberation.
The shrapnel sprinkled throughout the dirt,
Embedding itself in any one of its unfortunate victims.
Mothers screaming, hoping a false God will answer their prayers,
Thinking that perhaps if they scream louder, their loved ones will return.
I walk through the rubble, and I see the suffering of those
Who cannot afford shelter. They are all citizens of a corrupted world.
The fat guilty charlatans who sit on top of Capitol Hill
Only care for themselves. They are clever enough to fear change.
But not clever enough to outsmart me.
One after another, they have fallen. Every day, I near closer
To breaking America. The brave, the bold -- They don’t matter anymore.
They can’t stop this apocalypse. Nobody can.
I feel the suffocating embrace of soot and death,
A beauty to behold. All around me, there is only raw emotion.
There are no Latinos, no caucasians, no men or women,
Only humans. People who have been peeled back
To their most base instincts: to survive.
It’s funny how we often characterize relatively minor
Squabbles in history as world-ending.
World War I, a war fought for gold and stupidity,
World War II, a weak empire attempting to conquer.
These fools against me only see the nearing end of the world,
But I know better.
They see the end, I see a new beginning.
Their era of tyranny and exploitation is over.
Long live the king.
-C
Hope you enjoyed it, I promise I won't mess up tomorrow.
Thanks,
-Justin
Beauty in Destruction
I find beauty in the solemn nature of apocalypse,
As I bathe in its ruinous wake.
The thick smog covers the air, oppressing those
Who only vie for liberation.
The shrapnel sprinkled throughout the dirt,
Embedding itself in any one of its unfortunate victims.
Mothers screaming, hoping a false God will answer their prayers,
Thinking that perhaps if they scream louder, their loved ones will return.
I walk through the rubble, and I see the suffering of those
Who cannot afford shelter. They are all citizens of a corrupted world.
The fat guilty charlatans who sit on top of Capitol Hill
Only care for themselves. They are clever enough to fear change.
But not clever enough to outsmart me.
One after another, they have fallen. Every day, I near closer
To breaking America. The brave, the bold -- They don’t matter anymore.
They can’t stop this apocalypse. Nobody can.
I feel the suffocating embrace of soot and death,
A beauty to behold. All around me, there is only raw emotion.
There are no Latinos, no caucasians, no men or women,
Only humans. People who have been peeled back
To their most base instincts: to survive.
It’s funny how we often characterize relatively minor
Squabbles in history as world-ending.
World War I, a war fought for gold and stupidity,
World War II, a weak empire attempting to conquer.
These fools against me only see the nearing end of the world,
But I know better.
They see the end, I see a new beginning.
Their era of tyranny and exploitation is over.
Long live the king.
-C
Hope you enjoyed it, I promise I won't mess up tomorrow.
Thanks,
-Justin