The Last Lullaby

Inspire me, son for I lie wasting,

my soul the torment won,

I lie broken yet heeding,

next to my fabled son.


This will be my last moment,

set amidst a world of torment.

Be enthralling and just to cause,

I want you to be of some use.


So sing of today, and sing of tomorrow,

In apt foray, erase my sorrow.

My blood it gushes, and fear grips me now,

the adrenalin rushes, it should keep me somehow.


So sing me a song, a song of faith,

lest I become a menacing wraith.

Sing me a song, a song of valor,

make my heart rise like never before.


Sing me an ode to splendor,

better than any myth and lore.

Save me from this anguished savagery,

I’ve bled enough a tear.


Sing me a song a song of love,

brave, true and just to heart.

I wish to pray to god above,

I’m done and ready to part.


As life ebbs slowly from me,

the terror looms awakened.

My life ebbs away from me,

I’ve been beckoned.


So sing me a song, a lullaby to hear,

sing to me my dear child,

I wish not to go in tear.


“So sings the son of the withered demised,

he sings to stop his tear.

The devil conjured what he despised,

his father shrinks back in fear.”


Goodbye oh father, sweet dear father,

I sing a song of sorrow,

I would not see you tomorrow.

I hate this birth brought upon me,

It clogs up my pores,

I would like to cool you into the sea.

Then, I’ll be one of the heroes.


“The vibe hits thrive,

cataclysm launched,

sat below it hunched.”


The martyr the world will know to be dead,

I’m the one who cuts off his head.

My mother, she left you when I was three,

I hear she ran to be free.

Thus, you wrath and vengeance averted,

you were left deserted.

Twenty years she fled,

she bled, oh she bled.

You weren’t betrothed,

you forcefully wed,

you savage, you rapist you slave.

My kin you killed,

all of them dead,

my revenge, you rapist, your grave!

Yes, I’m deceitful, revengeful, hurtful.

for that fact, I’ll eventually be grateful.

So I sing to you know,

Now hear my cackle.

I won the show,

You’re in a shackle.

With my blade through your gut,

with my blade your life, I cut.

For your land, you’re a martyr,

in this war of worlds,

I turned out smarter,

I am the one who holds your head, blood red.

© Imontep – all rights reserved


via Daily Prompt: Martyr


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