Sam.

A memorial poem to my dear, dear cousin who died at the age of fifteen of muscuar distrify. May he rest in peace.

Sam

 

There was no need for words.

No simple or common pleasantries.

We said hello with our swords,

And that is the way I’ll always remember it.

No hello, for there was no need.

We’d continue where we left off,

And the battle would begin again.

Though you are no longer here,

I know our game shall continue.

It’ll just be a little longer till my next visit.

So, my dearest friend. Wait for me, and keep your sword sharp.

- Joshua

 

 

 

Author's Note

... as a side ntoe it was actually three verses but this thing isnt working right for me.

Reviews

[R. L. Ambar]

This poem reminded me of the many online games i have played, how i met people there, and the next time i saw them it was always in battle.


#_#

Rocher