Hydra

(a postmodern sonnet)

OK, Hydra, the time has come, let’s dance!
I’ve run from your insanity too long.
It’s time to prove who better spell incants,
And who to whom the other one belongs.

I’m tired of your constant whispered hate,
So many words that seem to want me dead.
Like poison spits that fear and pain create,
And spews like filth from every lying head.

You think you finally took the upper hand,
But talismans arrive by me unsought,
That offer searing verse that breaks your stand,
With love defeats in battles never fought.

And, having silenced every misspent voice,
I hear my own in words of her rejoice.