Its Metal

A poem for metal heads

In our valley, under the winter sky,

I heard it scream its electric cry

In the valley where none laid eye.

It thundered loud, from some strong grasp

Its rapid sound, echoed in the gap,

It shook the ground with its violent gasp

From somewhere across the valley,

Its steely sound bade me,

"Come to me, little one,"

And to my feet I took to run.

There upon a mountain side,

The player strummed, all wild eyed.

The sound pushed my adrenaline,

Every note like a vitamin.

Thrilling chilling wondrous sound

pushing the leaves about the ground.

It goes on for what seems like days

My lungs no longer needing their pay

A metallic anthem of rock and roll

I cry out, wanting more.

Then from dream I wake at last,

Drawing a much needed breath.

A song in my head plays just once more,

Till my feet touch the floor.

I know I heard its electric cry,

A metal man I saw with my eye.

A guitar player like none before,

An anthem fit for the God of War.