Tuesday, April 26, 2016

NaPoWriMo 2016 - 26th Day

To Be Continued

Calling to Calliope,
"Calling, calling to you,"
Give me words both happy,
"May your words help us through,"
And true to sing this song.
"And don't get us wrong."
 
Focus my mind to see
The things that are unseen.
"You allow us to see
The kindness from the sin."
May you grant me the strength
To sing this in full length.
 
"We open our minds
To welcome your stories
Of wars of our kinds,
Letting go of worries,
Surrendering to words.
May you bring in a horde."
 
There was a gladiator,
Strong like a real soldier,
Armor scales like gator,
Scouting like a ranger
For a spot most ready
To fight chariots steady.
 
"Our hearts are beating
Faster than chariot wheels.
These minds envisioning
The golden, breaking seals,
Majestic doors of Rome!
Into the field, who roam?"
 
And the ground rumbles deep
As the doors break open,
Unleashing in one sweep,
Like tomatoes ripen.
A pair of chariots ride
Double and side-by-side.
 
"The pangs and pain within
As we feel his sorrow,
And the hope grows thin.
There is no one in row
To help him win this one.
It's unfair and it's done."
 
But with skillful power,
He unleashes his sword.
Wielded by a tower
Of a hero from old.
Not fearing close combat,
Killing, no matter what.
 
And the day fills with red.
Sloshing and flying round.
Here's the gore to be fed,
To be watched, to astound
The elites of boredom
In a whole, new kingdom.
 
The walls shake with applause
At the sight of a head,
Fully severed and gross,
Followed by more bloodshed,
Delectable to men
And as much as he can.
 
And the horses run fast,
Without a direction.
Charioteers never last
In this man's aggression.
The second one keeps up,
For the show shall not stop.
 
"Our ears cannot miss
As the story unfolds,
For this sure is a bliss
When justice it beholds.
Justice, as we feel it.
It resolves, bit-by-bit ..."
 
But fear is a power
That posseses the weak.
Charioteers don't cower,
And when this becomes bleak,
A well-aimed strike of spear,
As the quick hand still steer.
 
"This should never happen!
What kind of song is this?
And why did we open
These minds to more of these?
You kill us, storyteller!
This man can't be over."
 
Though wounded and weakened,
No spear beats the fearless.
Though alone and sickened,
Real fighters don't regress
In the face of a lord.
Once more, raising his sword ---
 
*****
 
Thanks to NaPoWriMo for the poetry prompt!
 
My Camp NaNoWriMo 2016 April progress: 22708
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