Sometimes
Even bitter winter and its cowl
Cannot overcome this howl
For better the owl
And it's silent wings fall
Than the wolf to gain it all
For the cold is coming
That is all
Warring forefront
Bareface and crawl
Allow the wreckage of war
To stain the hands of children
For darkness rises in the south
Not a single mouth can stall
The cloud of smoke and fire
It approaches
No forefather, no chancellor, no word
Will halt a charging bear
Death is coming
With its icy fang in hand
All will fall
YOU ARE READING
The Poetry Gripe
PoetryWelcome to a collection of poems I've written over the years. Some are a true delve into meaning and life. While others struggle with love and strife. The path ahead is not so easy. Please be careful reader, the mind is not so easy.
