A Knight’s Last Stance: a poem By John McKinley Pride Jr
"A Knight’s Last Stance"
Heavy my steed walks upon bloody ground;
My shield in hand holding tight to my reigns;
So deep into the beasts’ tundra where no sunlight gleams;
The fear begins to make its way,
Trembling in my once steady war scarred hands,
I can feel the heat upon my armor;
I can smell the beasts’ very breath.
It is the stench of death rotted into the walls.
The sound of my heart echoes in my head.
Then before me a glowing of eyes appear in the pitch of darkness
That glooms in front of me.
My torch, as my life, slowly burns out.
By John McKinley Pride Jr.
6/1/10
Heavy my steed walks upon bloody ground;
My shield in hand holding tight to my reigns;
So deep into the beasts’ tundra where no sunlight gleams;
The fear begins to make its way,
Trembling in my once steady war scarred hands,
I can feel the heat upon my armor;
I can smell the beasts’ very breath.
It is the stench of death rotted into the walls.
The sound of my heart echoes in my head.
Then before me a glowing of eyes appear in the pitch of darkness
That glooms in front of me.
My torch, as my life, slowly burns out.
By John McKinley Pride Jr.
6/1/10
Comments