Warlord

Reads: 170  | Likes: 4  | Shelves: 0  | Comments: 2

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Status: Finished  |  Genre: Romance  |  House: Booksie Classic


My time is fading,

this body's degrading.

While trading blows

to this world's flow

has helped me grow,

my flow is shrinking.

Im thinking deeper,

just let me keep her.

I've grown to need her.

She weeded me,

then seeded me -

planting things beneath

this infertile field

and calling for me

not to yield

but to wield this sword

that I can't afford

to lord for.

"Its what you were born for."

and her voice is gold,

and her eyes are topaz

and her skin is marble

and her hair is silk

and her lips are clouds

and her soul

is all the light in the world

as I'm hurled 

into her furled heart.

I can't stand when we're apart.

I state my name

and take my ticket

to wait in line

and plate my mind

against fate's grand design.

Im calling to my future;

Can I survive?

Am I alive?

I don't want to die.

I want to fight. 


Submitted: November 10, 2020

© Copyright 2021 Fayren Meric. All rights reserved.

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Comments

Ann Sepino

Lovely. Modern and medieval at the same time, which makes it such a unique piece. Thank you for sharing yet another great poem with us. :)

Wed, November 11th, 2020 12:32am

twelfthnight

Great poem!

Wed, November 11th, 2020 1:38am

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