A love letter

A love letter

A Poem by Shogun

Note: This Poem is by no means romantic in any way. It is a product of my idle imagination and may seem a little random for some. Also, as usual, this being a Shogun product, younger readers beware.

Another warning, this, being a Shogun product, is vile, and violent in nature. There are guts, brains, and everything else murderous in between. Also, I'm only 14 so please don't judge, I do this in my spare time so if it feels a little off please don't take it too seriously. And, no, I don't have, or need a psychologist. Anyhoo, if you are enjoying the poem (especially the murder part) more than you should, please go get a doctor and I'm serious.My work appalled even me to if you have the urge to laugh as the character(s) murder and/or kill one another please go get help. This said, please rate fairly and add me as a friend cause I'm a little lonely. Oh, and message me if you will. 

Sorry is what I’d usually say,

Sorry for all the pain,

Sorry for all the quarrels we had,

And how I’ve left such a strain.

Regret is something that I’m used to,

Being the screw-up that I am,

Shame is but my loyal butler,

And remorse is my bread and jam.

Sorry for all those stupid lies,

The sleepless nights,

The biased dice.

Sorry for all those night you cried,

The aimless fights,

The broken lights.

Oh, I’m not writing to appease you,

Nothing can bring you back,

For the choices I have is all too few,

And I’ve nothing to keep our hearts from burning black.

I know I still love you,

You could run a million miles,

Change your name,

Wear a cowl.

You could migrate halfway around the world,

Forget us,

Throw away all your pearls,

I knew you wanted for us to work,

Settle down,

But that you didn’t expect me to shirk.

I knew you wanted for us to get married,

Have kids,

Start afresh,

But who can blame the bad luck that has ferried.

I still see you, you know,

Despite all the impossibilities,

The pain hasn’t subsided, you know,

Madness is slowly becoming a practicality.

Liquor no longer works for me,

Oh yes, even rum

Stuff that will usually knocks me out,

Somehow still keeps me sober enough to remember to call my mom.

Speaking of my parents, they were quite fond of you, yes?

Mom agreed wholeheartedly with dad,

That you were the daughter they never had.

We were once the bestest of friends,

Inseparable, as we were,

But now nothing can mend the dents,

I remember the summer,

When my infatuation of you grew,

I remembered the look you gave me,

And said that the feeling was mutually true,

I remember of our various honeymoons,

You smiles and laughter, long extinguished,

Back when I was happier than a loon.

But now reminiscent memories remain,

I regretted not saving our marriage,

Our happiness,


I regretted when I pooled our fortunes away,

Our money was gone,

And yet still I played.

I regret not being there,

Begging for forgiveness,

And mercy and care.

I regret watching you dying everyday day,

And doing nothing but stare,

Medical expenses would be far too much,

And my debtors had none to spare.

It was not until after you were gone,

When I felt the guilt diffusing into my core,

When I found those papers you were hiding,

Denoting that you had cancer long before.

And yet you didn’t tell me,

And yet you slept with those men,

So that I would have a little more money.

Then anger rose in me,

An flame that does not have a cure,

I wanted to watch the whole world burn,

Oh yes, the hatred had never been so pure,

I’ve burnt down the casino,

Bringing it down with the other gamblers inside,

No-one should ever feel,

The true power of false might.

Then I went after my debtors,

Oh how they terrorised us so,

I remembered how they made you strip,

And how they said they would be back for more.

But now I remember, oh yes I do,

When I hung them by their testicles,

Oh how their faces turned blue.

Then I killed their wives,

Cutting their meat from their bones,

I laughed as I remember,

How I fed it to their husbands, poor souls!

Then I burnt them all on a stake,

And tied their carcasses to the car.

I drove it all around town.

To see if their skulls could last that far.

Then I turned myself in,

Smiling as I was,

Oh, how they deserved much more,

I wanted to skin their sons and to impale their daughters,

To cut their parents in half with a chainsaw.

But the fear was coming back,

Faster than expected.

Sobering up my senses,

Peppering my guilt like flak.

But I don’t regret it,

Not one bit,

They deserved what was coming,

They deserved to pay for all their hits.

I don’t regret their blood on my hands,

I don’t regret their entrails spilling out at all.

I don’t regret hearing them scream,

I don’t seem to care after all.

Oh, I’m not writing to appease you,

Nothing can bring you back,

For the choices I have is all too few,

And I’ve nothing to keep our hearts from burning black.

© 2014 Shogun

Author's Note

Definitely not the best poem, I tried to be a little inconsistent and erratic, to mirror the protagonist's capricious behavior. Oh well,

My Review

Would you like to review this Poem?
Login | Register


This was very humerous very nice story i can sort of relate to.I had an ex I was so inlove with when she started seeing someone else yet still living in the house though she wasn't there finally I had to leave for fear I may regret what I might do.Your very imaginative sign of a good writer good job.Try reading "Our Last Dance" and "Aimlessly" dealing with grief

Posted 8 Years Ago


8 Years Ago

Thanks, Its good to hear some feedback. I guess we all know our breaking points, and we all seem to .. read more
W R Stowe

8 Years Ago

your welcome

Request Read Request
Add to Library My Library
Subscribe Subscribe


1 Review
Added on November 9, 2014
Last Updated on November 11, 2014
Tags: Murder, gore, death, regret, love, everything-else-in-between



In the basement under a hill, Singapore

I do poetry, however horrendous, and I would really like it if you would message me and/or request me a friendship request. Also, I really like rock music and my guitar, despite that the best piec.. more..

My Naysayer My Naysayer

A Poem by Shogun