O' how the night was dark, and the sky filled with tears.
O' how those splintery sparkly stars played upon our fears.
T'was only late December, the wind was upon our back.
T'was only just past dusk when eighty-thousand did attack.
"Alas!" Cried Anthinilus, "Alas time and time again!"
"Alas with eight thousand men were outnumbered one to ten.
"Whence came this foul menace, I cannot fairly say;
'whence' doth matter not, for we'll make them rue this day!
"Upon these plains. There see! The enemy draweth near.
Upon these plains we'll cast away the shackles of our fear!
"Hark! Their roars are meagre, sounding now ready to die.
Hark! They whisper silently that their deaths cometh nigh!"
Hither charged the serpent's, nameless were there names;
hither came the serpents for our women, gold and fames.
Mark where they dared step, for there Anthinilus was found.
Mark where he slew for love, for in love it was he drowned.
YOU ARE READING
Poetic Remnants
Poetry📚This is a random assortment of poems I have written - some in old english, some in modern. Most of which are centred around emotions, though of course they do vary in subjects. So please peruse at your pleasure.📚 Some of these are my old poems...
