The prince of the forest laughs
Beneath the bower of trees.
A bitter and angry sound
Devoid of earth and seas.
His back is to his homeland.
His eyes are on the ground.
He walks but heads to nowhere
Under the leaves now browned.
An onyx horse after him,
No bag upon his back,
He fades into his country,
From green to brown to black.
Author notes
I never tried to write anything that rhymed before, but my sister encouraged me to.
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