The Viking King

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Status: Finished  |  Genre: Poetry  |  House: Booksie Classic
This is a small poem I wrote when I lost a girl to a bloke who dresses up as a viking. I was quite bitter at the time, but I don't care so much anymore. I hope you enjoy it none the less!

Submitted: November 13, 2016

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Submitted: November 13, 2016



The Viking King


The Viking King came

To destroy my new game

With his smelly, old breath

I looked at my grim, dark death


“You’ll no be revolution!” said he

And he bellowed at his wives to come see

Defeated, I knew my place

My words of wisdom flew flat in his face


I couldn’t see my future plea

My guts wrenched as he stole her from me

I rose, a demon among men

When I healed, I began again


The Viking King with his jewels and cat

And his overpriced axe and hat

Sat smirking in his grassless seat

The fires burned, they warmed their feet


My children shall not grow old

They will never be born, of that I’m told

All because of the Viking King

And his evil eyes and manic grin


I raised some followers, and set out

To raise awareness, gaining higher clout

My time had come, I awaited death

To stop the beat, and one last breath


After loneliness, my soul had gone

Happiness had left, my crown of thorns

The brighter side wasn’t waiting for me

Just the Milky Way, for as far as I could see

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