Rounding the skies

In graceful dives

Holding until

The storm arrives

Sits on the edge

Of impending doom

A rouge falcon

Above the tomb

The shallow army

Of men on the ground

Courage churned

By the drummers sound

Weak and tired

Doubting the gods

Scarce are the soldiers

Improbable odds

Then striking awe

In the hearts of men

The falcon sweeps

And dives again

Free and flying

Wings un-tethered

Then falling as if

Aged and weathered

Sentineled stand

The ranks below

Now undeterred

By wind and snow

Guided only

By sweet starlight

Inviting and warming

Deceitful sight

The drone of war

Immune they are

How long they walk

To battles far

They won't be remembered

Anymore

Forgotten like

Fantastic lore

Each one is alone

With a thousand strong

As fate dictates

They've not got long

But the falcon there

Hangs in the skies

And catches light

In soldiers eyes

Hope still lingers

However small

Fight for the kingdom

One and all!


A poem I wrote a while ago, and recently came back and added a few lines. And remember: REVIEWS are LIFE. Please review!