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Cold Poetic Justice

Updated on May 3, 2010

When an evil man walks – for a hundred days 
across the frozen plains,
carrying deep in his belt the gold coins
undeservedly in his possession, the spoils
extorted from the frightened men
the villagers from beneath the mountains

When he sings, on the last day of winter,
so gleeful for spring
tomorrow will come
equip him with riches, so safe and so dry
and when he falls on the last stretch
into hidden pockets of melting ice

And there he dies, no coin will he keep
he had his becoming, and thus we must weep
but not with sorrow, instead with joy
he met deservedly his fate, no longer so coy
the darlings shall live long, the bastards shall die
for so it is ordered up there in the sky,
right behind the doors to the halls of poetic justice

Roman Trend


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  • Fiction Factory profile image

    Fiction Factory 7 years ago

    Thanks Dswan, it is kind of you to say so, although your poetry is probably at least twice as good! Feel free to get in touch for critique and advice on your writing style, we'll look forward to hearing from you.

  • dswan9 profile image

    dswan9 7 years ago from Amsterdam and London

    loved the pome and the hub ..need to get some advice on my writing style very soon

  • Fiction Factory profile image

    Fiction Factory 7 years ago

    Things went exactly like they should; thank you very much!

  • leni sands profile image

    Leni Sands 7 years ago from UK

    Greatly deserved justice - great hub, thanks for sharing.

  • Fiction Factory profile image

    Fiction Factory 7 years ago

    Couldn't agree with you more, thanks for your comment.

  • alternate poet profile image

    alternate poet 7 years ago

    Nicely delivered poetic justice! would be nice if all the bastards drowned in ice pools :D :D :D