KnightA Poem by anna
A figure stands,
On a desolate night. He wrings his hands, A fallen Knight. He draws his sword, He has accepted. He gives his word, To all knights watching. Upon his horse, A command is given. It couldn't be worse, But his will is driven. A figure dances, In a shimmering night. Take your chances, A wandering Knight.
© 2013 anna |
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Added on December 24, 2013 Last Updated on December 24, 2013 AuthorannaSummerville, SCAbout"Because there’s nothing more beautiful than the way the ocean refuses to stop kissing the shoreline, no matter how many times it’s sent away.” more..Writing
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