Alone
Having no friends, and being alone,
That’s what the monster used to mourn.
In never-ending chaos is his mind,
And he’s deaf, senseless and blind.
Why did the Creator grant this destiny?
Why did he have enemies so many?
With no friends to hear his sorrow,
No one would care if he died tomorrow.
But his enemies would bask in glory,
For they will end this monster’s story.
Why did he not try harder to make friends?
Why must he suffer and be at whit’s ends?
Thinking about the past has gone, it’s late,
At the end of day eight he will meat his fate.
Copyright © Thomas Kovacs | Year Posted 2006
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