First attempt at writing. It`s just a confession, thinking about Loki and his life. Just a poem.


In the flame of war and murders,

In the cruel, rotten times

There was a child of two fathers,

Who should take the both crimes.

He was brought up as a monarch,

He was told to be a King,

But his dream with birth was stolen,

He was up to nothing.

Full with jealousy, despair

He erased the edge of good and bad

And his evil, devised fear

Disparaged him making mad.

Groundless, morbid ambitions

Made him go ahead without remorse,

He was lost in the suggestions

Of the deaf fatal offense.

He just wanted to be praised,

Loved, significant, respected,

But the way he picked betrayed

Making him away from home rejected.

He was suffering alone

In the dark nooks of the Universe,

No more worthy of the throne

With uncertain hope of forgiveness.