Stable valleys shed brilliant imagery
casting the land into exile.
Shining knights battle furiously,
saving whomever in sight.
By the sword of course, and with blood.
No kindness can dispel their trance,
for valor is their instinct.
Yet the village lay tarnished, by their hand.
Kings fall to their daring charm
stepping onto horseback behind,
beguiled it seems by their reflections,
reflected in blood colored steel.
Those villains fall down in suit
hoping rather to be spared than slain,
but the knights have lost control.
And the sky is red with gloom.
To those who read,
remember.
Remember us who have fallen,
down into history.
---
Seems kinda jagged-y to me. Not enough flow or something I reckon.
the love you withhold is the pain you carry.
Oddly I was very impressed with the flow here. I love when someone can establish rhythm without rhyming to heavily... It actually makes me a bit envious. You have this epic way of wording things. I can always SEE your poems. And, because you don't skimp on the word play and vocabulary use... your work tends to mimic an intro in a screenplay or something like that.
... Not Ever Again...
A great poem by a great artist. The imagery of the knight is fascinating since someone with geberally speaking, better odds we see them as noble and the source of midevel good.
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