Warrior Poets

Wielding wit

Dividing asunder with a double-edged dagger

A poet's weapon is the pen

Cutting across the page

As the drying ink bleeds

Staining the pure battleground with

The spoils of a hard-won war

Crossing battlelines in between the mists of obscurity

Blended by time and fighting for clarity

I alone stand on the edge of this precipice

Awating the dawn of this war.

Sharpening my pen, I prepare for battle!

*written Dec.31/09 at 1am*