Other world – a poem

The continuous passion,
without reason
made him draw his sword,
in total discord
he severed the head,
filling his wife with dread.
Metal-plated menace,
came to wreak his vengeance
after the adultery became known.
Mercy he hadn’t shown.
He put it in a bag,
to be hang on a pike.
We complain about jet lag,
things not being to our like.
But imagine centuries ago,
what people did have to undergo?

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