THE UNLUCKY VILLAIN
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Everyone headed back to their destinations.
All disappearing at a glimpse,
Like fading smokes.
Then, I saw him.
The man with the trigger,
Threatened, harassed and shouted;
Menacing his victims for corporation.
They all laid helpless and low,
On the sticky stinking floor.
Master-mindedly, he ordered for his share.
That, which he never laboured for.
His voice was deeply sharp,
Sending a message of fear
To those that heard him.
At the end of his mission,
I saw him move, majestically,
Away from his victims,
With a sense of victory.
Soon afterwards, there he lies,
Brought down from his glory
With a bullet of misery;
Laying and gasping for breath.
A man once feared and respected,
Now pleading for help from a lad,
Whom he once trampled under foot,
And made to look like a waste bin.
It was too late for another chance.
He was led away in chains.
Freedom! A lad shouted,
And they all, in relief, rejoiced.
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