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Rated: ASR · Poetry · Other · #2088280
Every 100 years the seven deadly sins meet in hell for a tournament.
Every century a wild war rages across the heavens,
Storms rage, oceans crash, and people hide in fear.
Seven generals compete for days against the clock,
Trying to gain the power they all hold dear.
Only one can control the earth,
Turning man against man in their sin.
Pride. Envy. Wrath, Gluttony and Lust, Sloth and Greed,
Using humans in their games to try to win.
Pride makes men pompous, and lets them fall.
Envy turns their neighbors grass oh so green.
Wrath enjoys watching the fighting so,
While Gluttony stuffs full those who wish to be lean.
Lust turns husband from wife,
Sloth just lounges around turning children lazy.
Finally Greed whispers in their ears, “Mine it’s all Mine.”
So many thoughts that turn men’s minds hazy.
Only one can stick around once the games are done,
The rest get locked back into their own Pandora’s box.
But during the games, chaos reigns
And strife becomes as sly as a fox.
Humans can never seem to see,
The lies that the sins will tell.
They think that all the things they feel,
Are just the golden paths to hell.
It takes a strong heart to stand strong,
To fight against the games.
Few have had the chance to try,
And those we call by the saints’ names.
So if you wonder what is wrong,
Just take a look around you.
This could very well be the year,
That the tournament begins anew.
© Copyright 2016 c.e. phillips (cephillips at Writing.Com). All rights reserved.
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Printed from https://www.Writing.Com/view/2088280