poetry

On the Glade

The light was flickering

Out went the embers

Out went the fire

The insides so dark
The rain went drip-drip

Shivers ran down my spine

The cold gripped my very being

Because we had to meet

On the glade once again

My feet grips the soil

My hand on the sword
Here I come to fight with my heart

I shall not give in
I don’t care for the records

But I won’t go down like a coward

We meet again, my foe

This time I fight for victory

©Bookyglover

***

It’s been an age since I posted here.

To be honest, it’s been an uphill climb but here I am still standing. Full gist much later.

Blessings!

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