Posted in Poetry

A Wreath of Wrath


He was angry with his foe
And his wrath grew strong
Till his wrath became aglow
With his vengeful wish all along.

He went to an old witch on a hill
As his wrath was growing stronger
And asked her for a portent spell
To fill his foe with wrath of an avenger.

Thus was laid a wreathe of wrath
On his foe by the paragon of wrath
That consumed his everything to ashes
Ere it bore a fruit in his foe with gashes.


I write stuff of my interest that does not interest anyone in my blog. No grammarians, no copy editors, no marketers, no cynics are welcome.

Leave a Reply

Please log in using one of these methods to post your comment: Logo

You are commenting using your account. Log Out /  Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out /  Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out /  Change )

Connecting to %s