somber grotto
Vireõ's Burial
Vireõ, Vireõ, gasping for breath,
Another weak verse, another weak death.
You stutter through riddles, you fumble, you choke,
Your punches are whispers, your fire is smoke.
You drop half a bar and pretend that it hits,
But I read through your lines—just horrible bars that just don't stick.
A poet? A king? You’re neither, you see,
Just another pretender that’s lesser than me.
Your cadence is broken, your meaning is thin,
Your metaphors hollow, your structure caved in.
You stammer through 'bars', you reach for the wise,
But wisdom won’t save you—you drown in your lies.
Your kingdom is crumbling, your legacy’s lost,
Your pen is too frail to carry the cost.
You wanted a battle? Then kneel at my feet.
Vireõ is finished—accept your defeat.