other stuff


poems

The Warrior

The warrior crawled in through a quiet door,
Hanging his head in shame.
His nose touching the floor,
His right leg very lame.

Screaming, shouting and crying,
Out, terror ran rampant and dealed,
With, the few alive among the dying.
All their destinies sealed.

One last supply of courage
Lay in this broken lord.
His bloody hand did forage
For his blackened sword.

Standing tall and proud
His armour bloody and gory.
Striding and fighting in the crowd,
This warrior died in glory.