The Battle


When white mist thickens
And rivers begin to freeze
Tree leaves start to rot
Odor of dead aspirations
Begin to fill the air
Despair will start to crawl
Enveloping the weak
Warriors ascend and battle
With hopes and desire
To conquer the ominous
Cold smoke

2 Responses to "The Battle"

  1. Hi RS .. another of Eileen's wonderful pictures - just what I needed for my blog today ..

    Which has some creepy Glenn Close (Cruella de Vil) thoughts in it .. but not as cold as these words.

    They certainly resonate knowing that joy will not be found ..in the cold, cold air .. We do get the cold white mist too ..

    The Battle - it sounds hellish .. as I'm sure they were .. really good feeling, sensing, scenting poem .. Hilary

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  2. I really like this poem. It gives me strength.

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