Sunday, 31 May 2009

Poetry Corner

OK so I had an hour to kill on a train the other day, and jotted this down. It's trite bollocks naturally, so I apologise for that in advance.


Held aloft by malevolent force of will
Above the cowering northern town
Its battlements rimed with weeping ice
The dread citadel

Hallways o'ergrown with reeking slime
Patrolled by silent wights with iron eyes
The clank of mail and grind of bone on bone
Echo through endless empty rooms

Vast caverns where loathsome bloated shapes
Lurk brooding hid in ancient webs
And at its frozen heart a horror
Heeds once again its master's call

Thence I go

With sword gripped tight in shaking hand
To make young bones in the dark

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