Pessimism III
The swords of Thebes in Battleground
While Creon ascends to the throne
On holy land shall Oedipus die
Spoke Apollo, from amongst the desolated arts
Antigone was left behind
To burry her brother she craves
Her tears rant of Creon's eddict
Into infinite sorrow she drowns

For the Vultures feed on to
The body of Polynices
Hymns of the gods echo, while the crime had been committed
In search of Antigone, the Sentry was lost
Morality of the eddict was questioned enough

Corrupt and conspired against Creon almighty
Antigone was imprisoned
As her body hangs, from the ceiling of the cave
Creon's morals appear out of a void
A void in which we live
Of familial duty, she dies
Existential void, fulfilled
A story of utter humor
Pessimism at my will
Pessimism at my will