He
He was the most dreadful name,
Everything agreed the same,
When they felt his horrid wrath.
Such a lonely way it is,
All by myself watching the town fizz,
To escape Him along this narrow path.
I wish it wasn't this way,
But I've nothing to say,
For it is not my choice.
All in a large crowd,
Where everyone was very loud,
No one could hear my voice.
I chose to take this way,
Because no one listened to me today,
And they all will die.
I'm walking along this path I know,
Will show me the way to go,
And help I shall find.
But no mercy he shows them,
He will break every limb,
And I will run out of time,
Or maybe I will pay,
I might if I may,
Give him a penny or a dime.
Along this broken road I walk,
And to myself do I talk,
About if time runs out.
I hope it doesn't run out,
But if it does I will shout,
Kill me now,
Before He kills me.
And now you see,
The power of He.
poem by Mystykka Mysterious
Added by Poetry Lover
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