This poem was written for the Haunted Wordsmith’s Genre Challenge:
Today’s genre: Espionage (the classic international spy novel)
It had been a top-secret exercise,
To assassinate that troublesome royal,
Keeping his mouth shut seemed to be most wise,
Bodies all look the same, buried in soil.
All that was done, was done for the best,
And now to disappear into the night,
For the worlds top spy, there’s no peaceful rest.
In espionage, there’s no wrong or right.
Copyright: Kristian Fogarty 21/March/2019
This poem also contains the following word prompts: