>> Thursday, April 10, 2008

Wave after wave
bodies lay in the dust
dried blood they were draped
As the crimson sun did finally rest.

The tired monk’s feet shuffled
feeding the damned with water
as they cried and moaned
on their way to the Maker.

Wizened, his eyes rose to meet
the Warrior: laden with metal and medal.
The sword spoke menacingly in its keep
Tales of scarlet on metal.

The kind eyes imploring
the massacre he wished undone,
pitiable lives that lay writhing
No more to receive a hero’s welcome.

The Warriors eyes spoke to the Monk
of a wisdom parallel to frayed parchments,
when evil flails its tyranny unjust,
Silence weighs sin on the righteous.

And thus with the darkening heavens above,
The saints knelt to quench the dying-
One dressed in ascetic robes
the other in armor and shield.

4 comments:

Elendil May 12, 2008 at 9:07 AM  

Beautiful. I like your striking imagery. Some of your phrases are very powerful as well. Great stuff.

Incognito May 12, 2008 at 11:15 AM  

Lovely read!Bravo!!!!!
"The saints knelt to quench the dying-
One dressed in ascetic robes
the other in armor and shield."
That was simply awesome!!

Regards
Incognito
:D

ROGUE VINDICATED May 30, 2008 at 10:30 PM  

Gee...Thanks a lot guys:)

Da Rodent May 10, 2009 at 7:10 PM  

beautiful :)