Tetra

He walks with his fists, his leading-most feature, but followed  by spiritual oculus.

He walks among chaos, it eats at his being, but to say disappointed, ridiculous.

In his hand he holds conception, of worlds most fantastical; his pen bleeds the crosshatch’d creation,

In his head he holds knowledge, discord of delight; his prayer holds hope for extinction.

At his right is the cow who worships the jackal, loyalty unto end of time,

At his left is the cat who worships the scales, observant and balanced and kind.

The three bound together shall have their experience, shall save, and shall expand.

And all in the privacy, the sweetness seclusion of the sacred hills of red land.

Reviews

[Steph]

This is such a well written poem! I thoroughly enjoyed reading it. You really gave this 'person' a a really vivid character. I liked your rhyming scheme and everything flowed really well.

[Saichiro Wolftotem]

Thank you.

[KeeD]

This was amazing, I'm not aware of who Tetra is, be it angel or demon or pure fiction but you've brought it to life in character and spirit. I could see the visual image and feel the pride and stature of his form and power. Really cool poem, if ever you care to elaborate more I'd be all ears.