The dragon of the NorthWest woods
Sends out its cry to all;
No tears it cries, or blood it sheds,
Just endlessly echoes its call.
Many a knight in armor have tried
To slay it in the past;
Not one of them succeeded;
The fiercest of all; The NorthWest.
Its greedy little talons
Wrap around it's treasured hoard;
It beckons oh so cunningly
To those who are lost, unadored.
Even though this mighty beast
Wants all that it does not deserve,
Greedier still, the peoples' king
Envies its colorful reserve.
Day after day, he slaves away,
Ordering servants about;
While the NorthWest who's call is the strongest of all,
Has worked and had never a doubt.
He may be the trickster, the danger, the thief;
But all with the honor implied.
Yet the king of the land, the king of all grief,
Never rests until judgment's applied.
So forever he sits, this dragon of ire,
This NorthWest of greed and fires.
But less is he still than the king of the mire,
Who rules by his shallow desires.
- livesoftball11
YOU ARE READING
Poems of Midnight
PoetryPoems of all sorts, you'll find at least one you like:) I hope;)
