PostPoems Be Artistic. Be Creative. Be Inspired!

I was at home,

Relaxed and alone.

I lay sleeping,

The darkness was reaping.

Then I heard the sound;

Crushed windows all around.

Everything was destroyed,

Of glass everything devoid.

Then I heard Warhead at my door,

Personification of Balthazor.

The glass broke into shivers,

Splinters were in my flesh delivered.

In spite of my fear,

At Warhead I did appear.

And tried to calm him down,

And he stopped throwing things around.

Everything seemed to be well,

Warhead had changes of mood, I can tell.

And Lays-chips was lying there,

I wouldn't touch it, I declared;

'cause it belonged to Warhead.

Hours later, Warhead came down;

In his anger still drowned.

He wanted his stuff,

But I knew he would bluff.

Always talking about guns,

But the true deed he shuns.

Though I was confused,

His stuff was unused.

Is what Ramses did tell,

And so ended this hell...