Poem Made by Me

3-21-17

Here I am walking in the east aisle

Where I came to pick a rotten wood

Every day I walked

To pick an entire pile of wood

Sunday Morning the sun ray strike

To my dandelion eye

Questioning the life on the other aisle

Curious, is there also a pile of wood

Many stories truth to be told

But only the brave master the thoughts

Hereby the western troop

Acting vicous , loud and scowled

Horse whining , rumbling

A dashling gold and green

A mark of burning emblem

A knight with scorch

Had the courage to take the hold

Offered my hand

And took the scroll

Here I dropped the ancient robe

Long before the awaken soul

Where curiosity take the role

Feed by burning souls

On the road to take the western hold