Poetry: Dead Villain Tales

Dead
I now live
thinking victories.
I swear I won most battles,
drawing strength from the laughter
Here are my stories
Paused to be
Dead.

Stand
See my tales
Following your ears,
Children still chanting my name
I fought and won against love.
I survived its stabs.
Beautiful
Love.

Life
Depriving
My innocent heart.
Given to those hating me.
I carry my pain to death
To bear me witness.
I’m alive
Still.

Ruddapoet
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Here
Is a tale
Of dead villains past
Woven by spooling off yarns
That serve as threads tailored fine
With words quite painted
The villain
Died

Yes
Tis no lie
His was rather swift
Not as much a tragic end
Simply put; a death deserved
That villain was me
Not no more
No.

Well
Change us real
To tame that monster
I had to give up a lot
Tis true, ‘sacrifice is all’
That adage
Sick!

Noel.
=================================
He
Looks guileless.
His hair soft as wool.
With touch gentle like midas.
His silky voice tanned in love.
With his fist untamed,
He became;
Beast.

Who
Sorts vengeance
But a senseless brute?
Oil from his heart fueled his quest.
Reciprocating his pains
With tears, blood and lust.
Armed to his
Kiss

Here
I recite
Him a eulogy:
This is for the words that fought,
For every touch that scotched.
My friend the villain,
Died in love
arms.

David