POISON IN SEPTEMBER SNOW

A requiem is sung in a hero’s honour,

The legacy more than of a thousand brothers

No good deed unpunished, no crime unforgotten

Such is the promise of living a villain

But the hero hides still in shadows

Smiles and deeds cast blinding veils

Honest and soft spoken – as in the fairy tales

Who could ever suspect a thing?

But this is the tragedy of our cruel world

That no hero’s story can be so perfectly told

He’s not a Greek but a madman,

Not Roman but no less barbarian,

A sophisticated elegance, that swoons and charms

Deceptive spells and telling tells, you will overlook all the same

For all heroes are still human,

Marked by the dirty word,

And so, they are corrupted by selfish desire to self-preserve

So, goes he who seeks fortune and fame

love and all the other treasures, bearing all the different names

So, an angel comes from heaven,

The maiden of the hour

Sitting on a branch, not for taking, not for ours,

Yet the heart does it so, and the mind being fooled,

Cannot resist.

Such is the dissonant thought that reverberates for millennia

And contorts all men into a distorted mess.

For the hero now, revisit the tale

But do not be so blind as to assume he had fell

Heroes fight, futilely so, until dust becomes a star once more

And so, madness descended upon the wretched fool

Whose heart was unchained, his mind unruled

A great horror to honour the endeavour

To destroy the home, make quick work that forever

stains hearts like poison in the September snow.