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Remington

If you don't learn to write your own story, someone else will write it for you

5 poems·Since June 2013
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At the Crossroads

August 12, 2013

At the crossroads darkness fell

Benighted from the shades arose terror.

Water bled obsydian, black

From shadows opened the mouth of hell.

 

Despair, hatred, grief and their reek,

No one to cower, but the meek.

Black water and only fire burn,

Mighty and greedy all will learn.

 

The fangs are many and the claws too

Water runs red, but the tree grows blue,

Seventeen leaves with scarlet dew

Tasting as sweet as pure honeydew.

 

The shadow recedes and concedes,

Fear sprouts violently as weeds;

All is lost, All is not save for a flower

Blooming so suddenly at the last hour

At the crossroads.

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