Foreword, Forewarned

A poem about the myth of a powerful man.

For a man,
the myth of his legend persists
through crumbling walls and bottles of fifths.

Metaphorically speaking,
the poison he’s drinking is
water for thirst forever repeating.

Left out to dry,
his soul is a fly,
drawn to the light, but
​destined to die.

Can he be saved,
enough to save face,
or
will the bowels of Hell
be his sole resting place?

Author's Note

What do you think about the myth of man?

Reviews

[Summer R]

Very good poem,reads well,enjoyed very much.

[Brent]

Glad you enjoyed it. Thank you for your review!

[Nebula]

Hell is his final destination

[Brent]

Lol I also find it funny how close "Hell" and "He'll" are. One is kinda hopeful like "He will..." and the other... well it's Hell.