Let him be the king,
always exalted, worshipped, protected, admired,
yet swayed by an advisor of slef bettering intentions
I'd rather be the tall, mighty warrior,
killing the enemy of the kingdom, as a god of war,
not only making the battle strategies,
but leading them as well.
To break through the legions of warrior scum under my boots,
to feel exposed to the exhilerating power of leading ten legions working as one,
in magnificent glory,
to be bathed in praise after a great war,
heads on stakes, loot in treasury,
carrying my war hammer, battle ax, bow, and quivers full of high performance poisoned arrows,
with the power of chaos, beyond time space and reality, sending my enemies into the void of oblivion.
I'd rather be unseen, only heard of as legend,
greater than all, the greatest warrior of the land and other wordly realms,
I'd prefer that rather than to be at a desk, a figure head, growing in a castle knowing nothing but silk clothes, proze geese, and every beck and call answered with the swiftness of the wind
I'd rather be on top of the ruins of battle,
the homeland of enemies,
victorious with my black steed,
with red eyes, crimson in the embraceful darkness of war,
I'd rather be a warrior..........
-The Crimson Warrior
© Copyright 2016 TheCrimsonMusketeer. All rights reserved.
Poem / Fantasy
Poem / Poetry
Poem / Poetry
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