Bill reached too far. He was the one Who spoke our compromising spell. We warned him to beware of hell, But Billy laughed. He'd just begun. He had more wicked laps to run. It happened at that twisted bend. We'll leave to medics who'll pretend They knew the cause of Billy's death. In dreams we smell his fetid breath. We hear him scream, "Please, make this end!"
Linked to Ronovan Writes Décima Poetry Challenge where the rhyme word “one” must appear in the A rhymes of the poem with a rhyme pattern ABBAACCDDC.