Wrong Battle

Wrong Battle

He sat on the stool and pondered

His feet pounded while the mind wandered                       

What was happening, he thought

How could he loose the only one he loved?

The object of his incessant fantasies

The one that gave him uncommon ecstasies

His painting of exquisitely unearthly colours

His artwork that brightened his dark cosmos

The pain was too grave to bear

He turned and the reality still stared

More painful it was to know

That she left with one so cold

One he hated with the marrow of his bone

The enemy he had always wanted to hold

He stood up with the machete in his hands

Eyes fixed like he was in a trance

He trod forward and continued to move

Mind raced as he fumed

He sought blood and nothing less

More than a pound of flesh for his empty chest

The traitor’s house came fast in sight

It sparked the feeling and craving to fight

Faster, he moved, until he got to the door

Lost all reasoning, the better part of valour

A ballistic kick sent the door off its hinges

The traitor lay in bed with his beaming bitches

Two belles, natural in their fleshy dresses

Cuddling passionately and had lost all senses

They were oblivious of the descending steel

It struck and one became still

Blood spilled as the head rolled

The others moaned as they watched the blood flow

In a split second, the steel descended again

It was fast on a mission to inflict pain

To the traitor’s head, it did not sway

As the traitor ducked and it hit the second babe

On the eyes, it struck

As the eye balls popped

Blood and more blood gushed

As the ghost deserted the body in a rush

What gruesome murder to sight

It explains the brevity of human life

The traitor’s eyes smouldered with rage

It locked every sense of rationality in a cage

His mood, too befuddled to explain

But blood was not unconnected to his aim

He dove at his attacker with a punch

Who lost hold of the machete and held the couch

The two men struggled for life

Was there no other way than fight?

They fought from the sofa to the cold floor

Hands and legs whacked while the clothes tore

The door suddenly opened and ushered the princess

A princess indeed, a diamond to possess

Beyond shocked she truly was

In her brother’s house, to find the one she loved.



13 thoughts on “Wrong Battle” by BOB (@ROBERT-EKAT)

  1. Didn’t really get the ending. Did the raging man make a mistake – mistaking her future brother in law for his co husband? Good poem. Nice use of words too.

  2. the end was real cool.
    i first thot it was a jealous lover.
    a nice poem and a nice story too.
    i love your diction.

  3. Interesting piece. Prosaic in nature. I like the simplicity and the clarity of its theme. I believe the end was meant to be a twist but I’m not sure I get it well…was the attacker’s victim her brother?

  4. I’m not really one for poetry, but I liked the cadence of this poem. No, I didn’t get the ending either.

  5. i like the flow, neat and well put together.

  6. Well written narrative poetry, could have done very well as a story too.

  7. Okay,so the her lover went and atacked her brother? twisted! I like the way you made you poem flow with the rhymes.It gave your poem admirable rhythm.

  8. Seems we all have the same issue here; no one seems to understand the ending. Would you please correct that and try not to forsake comprehension in the bid to explore twists.

    Nice poem by the way; like the way it flowed. But you are wicked fa, i actually froze at these words: “On the eyes, it struck
    As the eye balls popped” eww men; horrible.

    Nice work still! Liked the rhymes too.

  9. BOB (@ROBERT-EKAT)

    Thanks 2 u all for commenting. To clarify the end, the attacker didn’t know that the man he mistook for her secret lover, was actually her brother… she was shocked to find him in her brother’s house.

    Really, humans should take time to understand situations before going into conflict.

    1. really interesting,now i understand it better.
      thank you.

  10. Meena-Adekoya (@Olajumoke-Adekoya)

    ahhh….the power of irrational jealousy…very intense poem i must say, love the way it flow almost effortlessly, good job!

  11. …A poem? A story? The points were well made. Nice work

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