Ouroboroid Spirals
This is a silly poem I wrote in response to someone (who??) who wrote a poetry prompt with 4 Magic cards and nothing else. The cards are named in capitals.
hen you reach the point
in your own Self-Reflection
that you feel so disjoint
that you've lost all direction;
when you feel like a stranger
whose presence brings danger
like a Hobgoblin Captain,
who knows what'll happen?
If you're hunting You down
as your own Predation Steward,
you don't have to feel down
you don't have to feel skewered.
Just move on with your life
to feel The Huntsman's Redemption;
prepare your own knife
all will feel it, no exemption.
Plan your own destruction
Set some Engineered Explosives
then make use of the exposure
and try to find closure.
you don't have to forget
you don't have to mourn
just set down your regret
as you're slowly reborn.
(Based on several named Magic cards)
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