Stupid poem I made

This poem I made is dedicated to Drockan, whose stories don't stop amazing me even though I've already read them all. This poem in particular is inspired by "Claiming of Seed" and its sequel "Tobias Redthorne". As a whole I enjoyed both stories very much, as they touch me as no other furry story does, and I hope you like them as well. No copyright is intended.



The night it all began
For all dreadness
Of father and son,
Your campain of
Misery, in which
Pain and sadness
Endure, claimed
Its end, of the
Boiling feelings of
Solitude and hatred

I, young child,
Whose years of
Happiness were
(Suppos'dly) never
Ending, had to see
The most flesh-freezing
Fate of my mother
And her mate.

You, cold General
Whose heart bears
Happiness in suffering,
Stalked my escaping
Parent, who, out of
Sickish devotion, lied his
True feeling for his family.
You destroyed the doorway
At our home, you scared us
At our home, you hurted us
At our home, for your own fun
Motivated by your lust of suffering.

So you killed my mother
So you tied my father
So you tortured me
At the shores of thy sea
Of cruel emotions, of evil
Intentions, of hurting feelings
All while your weaklings
Enjoyed the sick view.

So, General,
You're of the dead,
For your heart lacked
Love, and for all the gods
Of Death, all of the demons
And the eyrie cries of the loon and
The alpine chough, you can't be
Of the living, for the evil you done.
People can't be judged for who are they,
Just for what they do, but I shall guess
Who wouldn't call you evil by heart.

Why can't you stop?
Why can't you feel?

After thy night of nightmares,
I came to see it as heaven
Compared with all nights
That followed.
Kronos hadn't shown mercy
To me though, and for 7 years
Of horrors I came to enjoy the punisment
Of something I've never did nor I'll ever do,
But you made by heart as cold as yours!
Oh, I shall curse at you!

You demand loyalty, but how
Can someone be loyal to a beast,
Whose beuty (love is its name)
Abandoned his heart?
Oh, all the pain you released
To the world, reminds me of
The giants created by Ymir
In the dawn of the frozen
Arcturus, the star of the icy
North, land of the armoured bear.

Still, after all those that suffered
For leaving you, after my parent's
Unfair price, and my own torture,
You finally demanded love to return
To your icy heart, icy as
Arcturus, the star of the north.
You wanted to take me way,
So we could both be alone,
Far from your campain of misery.
Oh, what a delightfull irony!

So you, who caused pain
Behound the Kindgom of Death,
Where the shades and specters
Rule after the poor unfortunate souls
Of those you send to Hades,
Demand me as your lover?

Spare me disgusting Piasa!
Harpy of the enfields, the wolf
Who seeks pain in foxes, the Fenrir's
Jaws, where Odin died mauled, the
Castrated emotion of the male gender,
Whose purpose is affection, not
Remorseless torture! How dare
You offend me, you, who forced me
Into giving up my father over you,
At the unfortunate fate of a destroyed
Childhood, where I should had been happy?

Still, I briefly accept your attentions,
Under the hope of finding love.
Still, after discovering my visits to
My real father, you send your real son
To put his blade of a sword in my chest!
How dare you to call your feelings love!?
How dare you make my blood boil in
Pure and unconditional hate!?

Only a fool could be fooled
By such a foolish emotion
As love; for Cupid's a despotic
Deity, who claims blood to cover
His temples, long abandoned by
The romans, after an even more
Despotic god took his place.

I never loved you, General
Of the Dead, nobody did.
You can't force the victims
Of your cruel sadism into
Submission of your false
Affections, for their nothin'
Compared to suffering.
Yes, suffering you caused to others.

Your son now lies dead
On your chamber's floor;
So does you and my real
Father; all you three are
Traitors to the army, desiring
To destroy the most essencial rule:

"Orders before life, loyalty to the
Army, and its heart-freezing victories"

And what happens to me?
No its to late, or I'll end up
Like you; thanks to your
Training, General of the Dead,
I won't leave to army; I'm now
The General of this campain
Of misery, and forever I'll have my
Heart cold, but I won't torture.
I'll kill those who betray me!

And so to my eventual demise,
Campain of misery, army of Arcturus,
The frozen star of the north...

(Ridendo castigat mores, you know?)