My first poetry attempt. If the spacing doesn't appear, it's my computer's
fault. Hope you like it.
Randall Flagg2
The strong are the ones who survive,
I have no use for weak people.
Brother did, I do not,
That was our difference.
That was what made us brothers.
We were the greatest in the Makai,
Brother and I were constantly together.
We were never apart,
But we were different in our own ways,
And we were similar in our own ways too.
Isn't that the way things work out for siblings?
They are similar and they are different at the same time.
That is the way it will always be,
That is the way it always has been.
He killed only those he had too,
I murdered whoever I saw unfit to live.
He once loved a human woman,
I only loved hatred.
He gave up his soul for power, as did I.
He used his power to settle scored between a psychic and a human boy,
I used my power to kill and only to kill.
It's ironic how similar and different we were.
We both wanted the same thing, but for different purposes.
Now we are apart, and we are in pain,
Both pains are similar and different as were we.
He is in the spirit world, and I am in this tree.
My torment never stops,
It just goes on and on like his.
His torment is flames, mine is plants.
Again, both are similar and different.
I am used to the pain now, as is he I imagine.
It comes again and again,
A never ending cycle for the both of us.
Now nothing matters.
The torments are endless and we roll with them.
It's as simple as that.
As the vines and plants dig into me again, I wonder.
Can brothers not be similar and different and still be brothers?
And if so, would things have turned out differently for us?
I have no answer.
I just shrug and take the pain.
It was bound to come at one point or another.
The strong are the ones who survive,
I have no use for weak people.
Brother did, I do not,
That was our difference.
That was what made us brothers.
We were the greatest in the Makai,
Brother and I were constantly together.
We were never apart,
But we were different in our own ways,
And we were similar in our own ways too.
Isn't that the way things work out for siblings?
They are similar and they are different at the same time.
That is the way it will always be,
That is the way it always has been.
He killed only those he had too,
I murdered whoever I saw unfit to live.
He once loved a human woman,
I only loved hatred.
He gave up his soul for power, as did I.
He used his power to settle scored between a psychic and a human boy,
I used my power to kill and only to kill.
It's ironic how similar and different we were.
We both wanted the same thing, but for different purposes.
Now we are apart, and we are in pain,
Both pains are similar and different as were we.
He is in the spirit world, and I am in this tree.
My torment never stops,
It just goes on and on like his.
His torment is flames, mine is plants.
Again, both are similar and different.
I am used to the pain now, as is he I imagine.
It comes again and again,
A never ending cycle for the both of us.
Now nothing matters.
The torments are endless and we roll with them.
It's as simple as that.
As the vines and plants dig into me again, I wonder.
Can brothers not be similar and different and still be brothers?
And if so, would things have turned out differently for us?
I have no answer.
I just shrug and take the pain.
It was bound to come at one point or another.