The Godfather Poem by Jared Bradford

He was sly through life
Cunning, tough
Always won his fights

Sixteen years through battle and war
Even on his deathbed
He wanted some more

Creep around at night
Like a shadow in daylight

Sometimes you could lose him
But that's just part of the plan
He could even get props
From the man named Peter Pan

Followers gathered
To fight at his side
To go against him in battle
Was pure homicide

His warriors fought bravely
Reckless and true
They were all winners
Through and through

His flock of fighters
Grew by the day
For they wanted blood
That was their pay

Just one enemy did remain
In his way to glory
He swore to it
This would be the day

He sent out his army
To march toward victory
Little did he know
What trouble did lie ahead

His army fell in hundreds
This couldn't be real
It had to be fake!
His army fell
Like NY in and Earthquake

Lastly who remains
Defended him gracefully
Swift and just
Yet it was not enough

With his enemies in his eyes
He made not one plea
Not one cry

He shall not kneel
He shall not leave
For dying in the battlefield
Was the greatest glory you can achieve

A sling and a slash
Enemies fell
Then he smelt a most familiar smell

It was the smell of hatred and greed
His mortal enemy
Stood before his very feet

As his enemies circled
He knew this is the end
Even if he won
His will, will be done

The two fought as cheering raged
Things were getting heated
Like two bears in a cage

Then in and instant
Feelings went blank
All happiness was gone
Fuel was leaving his tank

Sixteen years through battle and war
In an instant he thought,
I want more

Dedication to 'The Godfather', someone who went into battle when all was lost. Courage.