Knights charge trampled fields,
fighting until their opponent yields,
and on their journey home
victory in their hearts roam.
The kingdom cheers and feasts,
claiming success over foul beasts
as illusions of grandeur settle
over the knights and their mettle.
But the war is not done
until torment has won
and the knights lose
their will and muse.
YOU ARE READING
Little Nothings
Poetry***STUNNING COVER by @Repulsify, as commissioned through @InkCommunity 's Artlink Station!*** Things speak to us in different ways. For some, it's a small voice in our minds. For others, it's the things around us, weaving words into succession for s...
