A Warrior

by Ashworld   Jun 22, 2008


A warrior stands alone
last of his kind
chilled to the bone
knowing his end has come like the wind
trying not moan
his enemy lined
in a single zone
his mind
not in place with a not a tendency to do things to prone
is he trying to find
something more out of life
other than the awfulness left by his peoples death.

Chad

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Latest Comments

  • 16 years ago

    by PoetryKnight

    And death and Hell were cast into the Lake of Fire, this is the second death.

    Great Dark poem.
    From another club member.
    Poetry Knight

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