Little life for a traveler, to roam beyond unknown,
Where the boredom populace, fears the greater dread
By the omens and signs of dangerous death it shown.
Yet what to tackle, even for a loaf of bread?
When the poor being conquered by the rich
And never know the taste but blood instead.
Those noble fools, whores and filthy lich.
They could never sustain what you bring
As you provide sustenance, proclaimed as a common witch.
If they embrace to their rotten cling,
Then its time for you to come to the city streets
And provide what the angels would sing…
Terza rima / Tercet
Art: Bad Omen by JJcanvas