[Evening all! Found this reading through some old work and quite liked it, so hopefully you will too. A slight departure from my usual style, which I enjoyed. Shout out to my good friend Jake of Granola For Dinner, who likely helped me edit this back in the day (thus any mistakes are his and I accept no responsibility). *end disclaimer, start poem*]


The bitter taste of bile and blood,
A battle nearly won.
Though vict’ry’s air was sweet to taste,
The cost had been a son.

All around him friends lay still,
Ne’er to breathe again.
Yet tall he stood, with pride in tow,
A king, he must remain.

Time soon passed with summer scorch,
And winters cold with frost.
Then though the land grew green once more
He was consumed with what he’d lost.

In sweet birdsong, a rose’s dew,
The king saw only death.
Bleak and black and burned in guilt,
His mind a blazing wrath.

Wife departed, sons all slain,
What now, did he have left?
The razor drawn at the setting sun,
The king saw only death…


6 thoughts on “Pride

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