Poetry

The Fallen City


The smoking rubble beneath me…
The stink of smoldering flesh…
Ten thousand dead at least…
Oh what a sweet victory this is.
Hear me people! I am not the enemy.
I come to liberate thee…
From the enemy that confines you.
Ah, dead children on the streets
No doubt conspiring evil,
My men killed them,
Instantly, devoid of any struggle,
Oh what a sweet victory this is.

A river runs all the way through this city,
This river is now crimson red.
Red with the blood of all who were evil,
Bodies scattered ubiquitously,
What could be a better sight…!
The trifling world is protesting!
They dare to defy me,
I am the master and commander,
Of this land I call free Earth.

A child cries amidst these ruins,
No doubt for his dead parents.
Shut up little kid!
I see it now,
It too is evil.
Die evil die!
Don’t cry oh fallen city…
Rejoice at being liberated…

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