Jah'ree stood below the aprons.
In a swell of sand.
Waltzing from the market.
Sack of gold in hand.
The caravan has just arrived.
A big man, a small fellow.
Driving goods in this heat ridden yellow.
Welcomed the man,
And off they rode, to the melting land.
The storm has just arrived.
He pulled over his hood.
For the long haul awaits.
Mingling with the goods.
Until his people can be saved.
The dragon breathes on,
As does the war wage.
Tattered armor and patterns of blood.
There is no cage,
To hold this grudge.
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Author:
Noah (
Offline) - Published: February 1st, 2018 02:21
- Comment from author about the poem: For those interested enough, this is the 3rd installment of a sort of series I plan to write. Sort of an Epic sorted into poems.
- Category: Fable
- Views: 37
Offline)
Comments1
Where are parts 1 and 2?
The Start of a War and The Concert Once Foretold. They aren't chronological, but they'll eventually add up haha
Thanks....... I'll go read them........
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