• This poem is filled with human emotion of wonderment and the subjects id thrown into a world of hate and finds that emulating this behavior is beneficial to his survival, and thus, he conquers.
    Vini, venci, vici.
    The sea shore thundered as lightning ebbed in the horizon,
    Turmoil rained on from above like blessed rain,
    and I lay there, soaked from the tears,
    The angels cried them out upon me.

    Would it be that I wouldn't spared, headed for the guillotine?
    To face the war scarred country of betrayal?
    Perhaps it would better just to get up and fight, get up and fight.
    I looked to the heavens, for an answer it seems.

    Seems I got only a statement and it was this;
    "The only thoughts of hate come from love."
    I lay in the grass and despaired.
    Perhaps it would last, this hate.

    No one thought this would go on. The boy was loosed to the winds,
    He found that burning was a holy burial.
    The healing began in white-hot hell.
    No one thought this one would go on.