Singing, Red
It's deadly song.
To which our Storyteller's brother
Succumbed.
Corrupted, Red
Their Commander of Knight.
Her sword ablaze,
A frightful sight.
With a cry out leashed,
Golden statues, Alive.
The Circle has fallen,
Their Temple destroyed.
With one person's mistake,
Our fears awake.
The red has returned.
YOU ARE READING
Poems
PoesíaThese are poems I write when I need to vent or whatever. Read it if you want....
