Lost
Within a barren rock strewn vale,
He hunts and wanders on his own.
Forcing on, against a great gale,
He will never again see home.
For there are none that wait for him.
Ash and dust are all that remain
Of all his proud warrior kin.
Vengeance is all that keeps him sane.
There upon a dark mountain top
Looms, the tower, his greatest goal.
He climbs his way up, rock by rock.
There the black chamber takes its toll.
An evil cries its last death moan.
He looks around, he is alone.
This entry was posted on July 23, 2008 at 1:33 am and is filed under Poem. You can subscribe via RSS 2.0 feed to this post's comments.
Tags: Barbarian, Poem, Vengence
You can comment below, or link to this permanent URL from your own site.