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‘tis the time orange and blue entwine
Each color extraordinary and divine.
He’s intermixed with it all in a stride,
Holding his head up to nothing less than pride
At times he come to a holt
Yet he’s always wary to bolt
His great white branches raise up to the sky,
As if always holding onto a cry.
Like hands they stretch and twist,
Equally as threatening as a mighty fist.
With each challenge he’s ready to strike,
Or even take flight.
With a creature that could be so easily be vexed,
Who would dare to contested?
A raise and a stomp of a hoof, he makes a pound,
Moving grass clean from the ground.
A high pitched cry flowed out in one pulse,
And from the pain he’s skin made one convulse.
After the initial crackle and thunder,
His strength is suddenly gone in a plunder.
Falling to the earth with a snap and a break,
The once proud creature was reduced to a quake.
With the upcoming night like the cold hands of death,
The noble crowned king takes one last breath.
- by Fira the Phoenix |
- Poetry And Lyrics
- | Submitted on 12/05/2008 |
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- Title: Dusk
- Artist: Fira the Phoenix
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Description:
This is a poem, describing a beautiful game animal, a buck whitetail deer, and it's final moments at dusk when it's brought down not by nature, but by a bullet from man.
This is my work, so please do not steal, make up your own, besides that, it wont be worth your time stealing this poem because there’s a verse I left out to prevent such a thing. - Date: 12/05/2008
- Tags: dusk deer
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Comments (2 Comments)
- Pistis - 12/06/2008
- love it. its deep.
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- Aqua_Ursus - 12/05/2008
- its sad but nice!!!
- Report As Spam