The Black Prince
Here lies a prince from Spain
Who always were an armor of pure black.
With mind and heart fully intact,
He took the chance to first attack.
His life of war was but a slack,
For he always knew where to comeback.
Honor and glory gave him good fame,
But all of it was not put in vain.
Behind that armor of dark frame,
Laid a man full of true shame.
One man could rise the glory like Charlemagne,
Yet fall down into the heavy rain, like angel of pure dark pain. As it is told, the true story of the Black Prince from Spain.
👁 4💬 0
Something wrong with this poem?
Replies are closed for this poem.
Your Poem's Voice
See what makes your poem unique — its voice, energy, themes, and the literary traditions it draws from.
Comments (0)
No comments yet. Be the first to share your thoughts.
Log in to leave a comment.