Sabbath

Curseth be the man,
who moves my bones,
and blesseth be thee,
who spares these stones.
- William Shakespeare, on his epitaph.

This poem is my personal favourite.

Sabbath

I rise, steady on my feet,
with the world rocking to my feats,
hypnotized, they raise bove their seats,
and sway to my beats,
The pressures intense,
As i rise, i feel the heat,
my fumes have consumed me,
A conspiracy to dethrone me,
My shine has outshone me,
but i won't be beat,
I look through the mirror,
and my match i meet.

But I won't be outdone,
I'll find my place,
under the sun,
and in the end,
I'm the one who won,
I'm the one,
who's second to none,
and I still am,
the one you need to outrun.

They rise, bove their seats,
the curtain closes,
and they're throwing roses,
at my feet.