I stood alone,
On top of a hill,
Everything looked so low;
I called my men,
They looked so sad,
They walked with steps very slow.
They spoke no word,
I know not why,
They looked as pale as snow;
Their eyes were black,
Their mouths were shut,
One of them, cawed like a crow.
I held my chest,
My fear held me,
I knew not, the meaning of that;
They approached me,
Then threw me down,
One of them, kicked away my hat.
I loved no bird,
I loved no man,
All I loved was gold;
They held me down,
And tore my chest,
Then scrapped off gold from every fold.
Oops! This image does not follow our content guidelines. To continue publishing, please remove it or upload a different image.
YOU ARE READING
Fountain Pen
Poetry'Fountain Pen' is a collection of poems composed by me. Image source: Google and Pinterest
