Herded like cattle, our colours clashing in the sunlight
promises whisper blood from your stained lips
withering grass and forest alike,
your lies snake in a vain attempt, to pen me in behind your walls
I am born of the land, where freedom is but a gift of the gods
Free to one and all, yet you seek to curtail the gods.
With last vestiges of strength, i shall leave your promises,
shrivelled among the dead leaves of your cities
Returning to the land of my fathers,
to wander the plains until a visitation from my spirit guide
Takes me on my final journey
Author notes
option 1 Ten Bears - Chief Comanche
A contest entry
- From depths, to dark, to freedom's frown. by Laura Lamarca.
1100 points, ended August 11, 8 entries
Bronze trophy winner
• next poem in this contest, remove from contest
Comments
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This is lovely work. You stayed true to your prompt. I particularly liked:"With last vestiges of strength, i shall leave your promises,
shrivelled among the dead leaves of your cities." That particularly resonated for me. Although I would re-check the spelling of 'shrivelled.' just to be sure. Overall, you did very well with it. -
I like it alot... Sorry I'm commenting from phone so that's why the miniscule comments
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