King of Woe

“Finish him! Slice his slithering tongue!”
Piercing through the ballooning lung,
Battered heads along the walls are hung,
From which the halberd was ruthlessly swung

Spires tower toward the benevolent sky,
Erected in your sickened sobriquet
This dome of insidious demons,
This festering pool of rotting decay

The ruler extends his wretched arms,
Points to the victor with unwavering hands
Bloodstained, bruised, beaten is the combatant,
Its victims bleed, buried in the illicit sands

Oh Master! Cruel decider of the fates!
Please endow this soul with life
But alas, the overlord says he is to be slain,
Forcing the vanquisher to offer this sacrifice

Disgusted, the poor man is brought to his knees,
Sickened at the raging crowds selfish pleas,
Death and disorder is all the audience sees,
Fulfilling their narcissistic needs

He gives the peons one final look,
Enraptured in loathing loneliness
Locking eyes with the king of woe,
In his kingdom of unholiness

Picking the spear from the spoilage,
He aims to the pounding chest
Splitting through the looming fog,
And laying this tyrant to eternal rest

The end has finally come for now,
Until the heir of the throne arises
But what lies in store for these feeble minds,
Is left with nothing but surprises