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 Posted: Thu Jun 26, 2008 3:53 pm
He walks down
the stairs of
his own palace
the sword untouched
his eyes fixed
as he walks
the voices whisper
cold wind blows
he did not kill
nor did he asked
to be free
he accepted
as arrows flew down
his own faith
he died
a traitors death
but was burried
a hero
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Posted: Sun Jun 29, 2008 11:45 am
Wow. I like. It confuses me a little. Is he fighting in a war?
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Posted: Tue Jul 08, 2008 7:28 pm
I like it too. I don't quite understand what's all going on, but I enjoyed it anyway.
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Posted: Wed Aug 06, 2008 12:02 pm
A great poem about the oddities and complexities of war, Red. 3nodding
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