Spontaneous Works of an Endless Dreamer (Poetry)

A War of Roses

Beneath the canopy of green surrounding,

Lies a freckle of red,

against this horizon of green,

splattered in sunlight,

a spectacle most

astounding.

~

The dot of red,

a fox,

strides into the light,

each step with great precision,

Weighing every outcome and possibility,

before he makes his decision.

~

There the predator stalks,

his eyes focused on the prey,

But this prey is different,

his eyes gleaming with determination,

For one way or another,

he was going to get his way.

~

The midday sun scorched upon them,

sparking out light,

and the fox was ever too sure

that he was to win this fight.

~

So the two flounced across a sea of trees

The little prey ran on,

just wanting to be free.

~

Bounding and sprinting into the day,

one wrong move by the cunning fox

and that little tiny prey,

just simply slipped away.

~

The vast sky grew ever so dark,

The prey narrowly escapes,

his only battle scar being a simple mark.

A red rose.

~

Yet he carries the burden

with pride and honour,

Rather than hiding and being somber.

~

And so that clever fox leaves,

disappearing from sight,

As the darkness prevails,

Suffocating out all that

shimmering sweet light.

~

That fox never again

was to be seen,

As he faded into the darkness

of the night,

well out of sight.

~

And one day the prey,

forever still it lay,

Was left coated in freckles of red,

dappling its delicate skin.

~

And alas,

it forever escapes,

and at long last in peace...

it wins.

It's drudgery to not be,

forgetten.