The Village Aflame
There is a village aflame,And there is an army unbound.
The villagers were of the Breed,
And were being hunted like they where feed,
All because they where born of the Breed.
With the village athunder,
The chaos running asunder,
There was a runner!
The runner was only of five,
And as his parents were fighting the army he hid,
The runner was being chased by a time.
A horse riding man chased him down,
And his blade descended upon his crown,
And the boy went down.
Labels: Poem's
posted by Moonwolf @ 1:48 PM
Comments: 0
