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A Last Wish: The Warrior's Grief

Poetry By: arik Z
Poetry



A warrior's grief at his leader's and best friends' death.
Inspiered by http://www.booksie.com/poetry/poetry/afatrat/traitors-flee-this-place


Submitted:Oct 12, 2011    Reads: 17    Comments: 0    Likes: 1   


My blade has left it's plain wood sheath

The light sparks on the traitors.

It longed to kill, to join with me,

A whirl of light and mass.

I fought it's urge,

No, I fought my urge,

To let their blood flow fast.

To avenge Black Might

The leader of my clan

I roar, my voice as loud as the thunder that booms above:

"You cowards, FOOLS, you killed him

A contest ten to one.

If he was just a "wild brute."

He wasn't worth the trouble.

Yet that kind soul he spared you,

For kill he wouldn't aught

He could have killed you all times ten

You cowards knew he wouldn't fight.

You... nameless now, for any name

One gives to you would desecrate it,

Forever and a day.

I'll never call another cowardly,

For that would be to kind

To kind to YOU, you nameless thieves of life.

A fool no other 'l be to me

As fools you are alone.

I'll honor, now his dying wish,

You cowards are set free."





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