FicWad

Here I stand in molten ire.
Fuming, frothing, hot desire.
The hurt and pain is swift and precise.
No room for error, harsh and concise.
Nothing changes from love to battle.
They take prisoners, none, the bodies stack high from the wrathful.
The black and the scorched liter the street.
But evil hears my approach, swiftly in raw bloody feet.
Tattered and scarred I unleash my great might.
The giant prime evils, yes, they will fight.
The Glutton and scornful they squeal in delight.
They lick on their teeth sharpened and red, the meal coming fast is all that's in sight.
With cunning and steel the specters fall head over heels.
With effortless agony I close off that seal.
Though no battle is won without pain or bloody fist.
No pleasure to be had except for the short random stint.
The bodies stacked high and streets long stained red.
This all is too familiar, these people, all dead.
Greed, Sloth, and Pride awake haughty and in haste.
Their eyes only see soul, and this one does not show chaste.
The battle rages on with an earth shattering display.
Our tussle continues down, into the bone made brae.
Puissance and sparks can be seen in the sky.
With a thrust and a twist, Greed stops, and he lies.
Sloth in its nature with heavy attack most opportune.
Though he is not the real threat he shall be put down soon.
Pride is the monster most dangerous to me now.
Victory impending, hardened reserve, you shan't defeat me I've solemnly vowed.
My will, my weapon, never falters or fails.
My strength, my passion, serves me like mail.
I slash thru the conflict, in one mighty swing.
Panting, wet, and dripping with gore, my will it still sings.
Sloth stumbles round, runs off on a whim.
Forgetting the scared warrior, winning looks grim.
Envy and Lust, greater foes still, their hot breath comes in waves.
Lifeless blackened charred bodies, once like me, now slaves.
Their lair is grotesque, like a stone wall a fetid stench of torture and birse.
Still bloodied and tattered, on raw bloody feet, I roar with my promise, I will remove this curse.
Envy uncurls and reveals his true form.
He peers down at his victim, with anger and scorn.
Dark green scaly skin, bulls head, and six deadly arms.
The bloodied man's eyes betray him, and proclaim his true qualm.
With vigor and patience he waits for the inevitable.
Only one way to beat him, it's too pestilential.
With one quick chomp the warrior is downed.
Nothing that's ever gone in has ever been found.
The beast happy and full he whispers words of inveigh.
He struggles and falls with a gurgling gasp, the warrior couldn't get out so he made his own way.
Lust peered at his vast kingdom falling to ruin, has the day finally come the one he would rue.
Has the warrior finally done it? Will peace now ensue?
In the form of a serpent, he wastes no more time.
And strikes the scarred warrior, for all his past crimes.
With darkness closing fast, hell shortly follows.
You can't fight your nature; it's a hard truth to swallow.
Accept your fate as you will, live a long servants life.
Or fight back and die, alone and in strife.