A red smell pierced the air
A warrior clad in victory – knelt
Amongst the steeping ancient elms
With branches laced in trailing fog
A cautious wolf stared in pause
The tha-bump of drums played steady
Quivering the silver dew drops
Such was his heart beat
The earth, the forest, the sky were grey
Black figures lay still – slain
As boulders lost on autumns floor
Shadows fell into the distance
Breaths came as violent storms upon the soul
Wrenching at his broken body
Which was, cast upon his trusted pommel
So his eyes could catch one last morning
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A/N:
I have muscle memories handed down to me from the ancestors, my arms know how to wield an axe; for lumber and for Lord.
Medieval battle calls to me, as horrific as it must have been. Throughout my collection of poetry you will find a few of these battle field poems.
What do you think or the poem? Does it strike an image?
Vote if you liked it.
See you in Valhalla,
-DarthPadre
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Maximum Exposure
PoetryThis is a continuation of 'Exposed'. There is no theme per se, just poems i have written over the years. If you see something you like please vote, comment and share. If you think you see one of those one in a hundred poems, shoot me a note, i'm...
