Under the overcast sky, the city burned,
The tide of the battle had definitely turned
Arrows rained down, bringing deadly fire;
Of soldiering on, few left had any desire.
Blood, wails and tears mixed in the streets,
Nothing now remained of the fighting fleets
Through the smoke, haze and despair of the remaining few;
Came a lone warrior, weapon in hand, vigor anew.
‘Don’t go out there’ they pleaded, ‘’tis a lost cause’,
The warrior walked on, without taking a pause
The howling winds carried back very few sounds;
The enemy could still be heard, baying like thirsty bloodhounds.
Walking out to the field of death, all he calmly surveyed,
Horribly outnumbered, had his options not been weighed?
Smirking, the enemy circled, waiting for the kill;
Any mortal would have felt his spine catch a chill.
Swords & arrows, axes and spears,
He conquered them all, and the city’s fears
The mysterious warrior had done it;
As the remaining enemies beat a hasty retreat.
The victor walked back to the city as it reveled,
He took no part, staying behind the mist, veiled
In the darkness, He crept out, leaving no trace;
The citizens lamented, trying to recall his face.
The skies cleared up, and more than the weather was perfect,
The city had been rebuilt, signs of war cleared away
His statue was put up in the town square, as a mark of respect;
And there he stood for eternity, the hero of the day.
Reflecting on the Color of My Skin
4 years ago