Poet laureate 11/12/2009 Title: Death of a Poet Author: Aedán O'Diomasaigh
As a poet for deeds i travel far upon tales of a squire bold I traveled night and day by sun and star for something bid my this tale be told as luck would have it when i arrived inspiration fought high on a hill of green the victor the victor the one still alive the beginning of a song i did glean My moment shattered by sight next seen tired helmet fell to a field of grass i stood entrapped by the scene for the squire so bold was a beautiful lass a new song did well within my heart and the words as if by muse herself came forth begging from her let me never be apart moved by song she felt my worth for months i lounged in her strong hands tracing scars that graced her fair skin content next to a muse i laid my plans that would make hearts sing from deep within but war tore apart my moment of peace knights and lords did give commands and on the march did our dalliance cease but i served as well with lute in hand as a poet i watch the deeds from afar but only one would catch mine eye death, grace, beauty is what you are then for the worse the battle went awry tired helmet crashed to a field of grass I stood entrapped by the scene some hellish knight laid low my angel lass my heart shattered by sight last seen no new songs can come from this broken heart my angel lass laid low by others plans I walk as the dead a man with no heart for my soul lounges in her strong hands |
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