A Rumor

by Crystal   May 25, 2004


A wailing waft blows in through my roundels;
a restless spirit crying out to me.
My life candle is snuffed out by this echoing entity.
Black is my sky; so sudden the rain
drowns me in this endless pain.
But, to hear, alas, the thunder god,
a resonating roar awakening all.
I stand alone atop the stairway of truth;
so bright, the light, I cannot fall.

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Latest Comments

  • 20 years ago

    by East Poetry

    wow, I loved this poem. You used alot of alliteration and powerfull words, i take it that these are the thoughts of a knight of some sort, or someone who is wearing armor. I looked up the word roundels to figure that out.

    roundels:round piece of armor plate that protects the armpit

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