I have been writing some poems, so I decided to put some of my more generic ones up here cause why not.
The fall of something great
Quietly it fell,
Down to where nothing should dwell.
There it stayed,
There it remained afraid.
Sometime it tries,
Then it cries.
One day it will leave,
Without needing to reave.
Out into the forest,
Which is deforested.
There in the quiet,
It will silently riot.
The careful fall,
Leaves it feeling small.
Yet in this it is brilliant,
As it becomes so resistant.
As it goes,
It picks it’s clothes,
In case it ever froze.
For being frozen,
Is much like being chosen.
For the last time it thinks,
What happened to all those links.
For your eyes only
It happened so quickly,
It made you feel so prickly.
The thing you were looking for,
Was just on a distant shore.
But when you arrived,
You found out it contrived.
Someone wanted you gone,
Which is why it happened at dawn.
While you were asleep,
You didn’t hear them creep.
When you opened your eyes,
There stood everyone who was allies.
Shot and buried,
No longer would you be carried.
The cold ones
Middle of winter,
The cold felt like a splinter.
Somehow though they managed,
Although at the disadvantage.
Somewhere in the dark,
Just as everything was looking stark,
They found a mark.
The mark kept them warm,
Even in the pressing storm.
So around the mark,
They had a spark.
To build something here,
And just disappear.
Thus the druids of the snow,
Will always bestow,
Something they borrow.
A smaller version of the mark,
That leads them through the dark.
Should you accept,
You will become an adept.
You will have no choice,
As the mark takes your voice.
The fall of something great
Quietly it fell,
Down to where nothing should dwell.
There it stayed,
There it remained afraid.
Sometime it tries,
Then it cries.
One day it will leave,
Without needing to reave.
Out into the forest,
Which is deforested.
There in the quiet,
It will silently riot.
The careful fall,
Leaves it feeling small.
Yet in this it is brilliant,
As it becomes so resistant.
As it goes,
It picks it’s clothes,
In case it ever froze.
For being frozen,
Is much like being chosen.
For the last time it thinks,
What happened to all those links.
For your eyes only
It happened so quickly,
It made you feel so prickly.
The thing you were looking for,
Was just on a distant shore.
But when you arrived,
You found out it contrived.
Someone wanted you gone,
Which is why it happened at dawn.
While you were asleep,
You didn’t hear them creep.
When you opened your eyes,
There stood everyone who was allies.
Shot and buried,
No longer would you be carried.
The cold ones
Middle of winter,
The cold felt like a splinter.
Somehow though they managed,
Although at the disadvantage.
Somewhere in the dark,
Just as everything was looking stark,
They found a mark.
The mark kept them warm,
Even in the pressing storm.
So around the mark,
They had a spark.
To build something here,
And just disappear.
Thus the druids of the snow,
Will always bestow,
Something they borrow.
A smaller version of the mark,
That leads them through the dark.
Should you accept,
You will become an adept.
You will have no choice,
As the mark takes your voice.
