The Wounded Warrior

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Status: Finished  |  Genre: Fantasy  |  House: Booksie Classic
A story told through poem. Testing my word play.

Submitted: June 26, 2007

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Submitted: June 26, 2007

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A child is born, dead,

Killed before release,

From a poluted womb,

but revived from a strangers,

breath,

handed to a drunk mother,

asleep on bed.

Born with a curse,

with a deformed left leg,

demons dance around his head,

planning their assault,

colaberating with doom,

angered that this Warrior,

had already slipped away from death.

 

A child of the valley,

born among the fallen,

corruptors, so loud around him,

but he still could make out,

God calling to him.

The child hated who he was,

skinny, smart, and short,

laughted at by the norms,

befriended by snakes and worms.

Soul full of love, heart full of anger,

eat off of the dirt,

thoughts confused, eyes radiated danger,

heart turning to ice,

but his God kept his soul warm.

 

Demons provoke him,

guilt chokes him,

God puts him together,

when the world broke him,

now he fights like a Warrior,

and teaches to be a Warrior

because,

The Lord has spoken.


© Copyright 2017 Tyrone Slade. All rights reserved.

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