Gold That Doesn't Glitter

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Status: Finished  |  Genre: Poetry  |  House: Booksie Classic
Poem doodled in the boredom of class

Submitted: April 19, 2014

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Submitted: April 19, 2014

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The things of our father's time

Brooding inside our mind

Haunting the joy and the gladness

Stained blood of the race on your hands 

The choice was not yours but chosen you were

THe forgotten king of men

 

Lost and lonely 

Proud and homely

Cursed to wander the forests and roads

The heir to the crown

But ranger, is found

For what use is gold that does not glitter

 

A band, but a ring

That shimmering thing

The lustre of glory and might

Is all that it took 

To goodness have forsook

As man stumbled into the night

 

A ballard, a lover

Writer and friend

Loyal to the fellowship until the end

A warrior, a fighter, a soldier is Strider

But he cannot his own line amend


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