They Called him Letat,
One very wise,
He had distinct features,
Such as his dark red eyes,
He spoke in a way that was very spry,
He spoke so proper,
He didn't even have to try,
It's as if he'd been speaking for an eternity,
Hundreds of years or so,
The English language he had mastered,
But he looked as if he was born 20 years ago!
He charmed both sexes easily enough,
He was always clean shaven,
Never having scruff,
His skin was pale,
His hands were wan,
He could fight ten men,
He was made of brawn!
He played ten instruments,
He sang every song,
To call Letat ponderous,
Would be very wrong,
The sun was his adversary,
His skin it would burn,
But Letat wasn't out to harm,
In fact from him you could learn,
He wanted to teach,
He wanted to educated the youth,
However one nosey man,
Caught eye of his tooth,
And rumors did spread,
Saying that Letat was crude,
They called him a night spawn,
A bloodthirsty vampire,
At first people took it as farce,
Simply satire.
But people did notice Letats wondrous qualities,
More rumors did spread,
And soon the people wanted him dead.
This had happened before,
To scorn Letat was no stranger,
But this village was big,
And to Letat big numbers meant danger,
He fled during the night,
His most powerful time.
Two people tried stop him,
He pushed them away,
They fell to their knees,
They started to pray,
Letat looked them in the eye,
And said "To you I mean no harm",
Just then a man snuck up behind Letat,
And tried to hack off his arm,
The blade didn't even scratch Letat,
It did him no harm,
The blade equipped man slowly backed down,
Latat was now angry,
But his only attack was a frown,
He leaped higher than any normal man could,
He was now atop a roof,
One made of wood,
His steps were quick and smooth,
His running never stopped,
He kept an even groove.
Latat was soon gone,
People talked and talked,
They felt guilty for their actions,
On Letat's door they knocked and knocked,
But Letat was gone forever,
This they soon realized,
Letat was good man,
But was he a man?
He was beyond wise,
He was oh so likable,
Beyond despise,
Letat was not someone,
Who would ever meet his demise...
YOU ARE READING
Coeur De Tristesse (heart of sadness) A Collection of Poems.
PoetryCoeur De Tristesse (heart of sadness), is another edition of poetry presented by Lucien LeSchants. It touches on love, being alone, and feelings. If you enjoy heart felt poetry, you will surely enjoy this collection!
