• adeiz001 4w

    The battlefield

    *The battle field*
    I see that u have adorned your finest armour
    made of stanza,metaphors and anaphoric tone,
    I see u have polished your boots ready for line breaks,pause,and stressed pentameter,
    I see now that your words flourish cut deeper than authur's Excalibur,
    use of imagery,perfect word plays, consonance are the mantra u give ur self called warriors,
    they chant in rage,
    the battlefield left in disarray,
    as the lexicographer,spoken word maestro,poetic writer,
    makes his entrance his pen sharper than sun rise as it decapitates,
    amputates the young poetic pawns,
    As it tear open their strong shields
    flanking them in the left and right direction
    today is not their day of victory,
    today is the day they lost,
    their Godly muse failed them,
    their courage,bravery all shattered,
    their pen fell from their hands ,
    their armour broken to their spine,
    and their general said,
    sitting at the top of his stallion,ebony,dark, eyes from hell,
    strength from the wind,
    sword in hand,
    I see that your grounds is not fit for
    a poetic battle,
    ©Mr khyroo