Deep South

When i have something on my mind,
i cant think beyond the second line.
Trying to frame something fine,
i cant figure whats beyond the salty lake of time.

Still i have something to remember,
sinking ships and burning embers,
treasures locked in hidden chambers,
and dragonflies with haunted reindeers.

And behold the wonderous cloud,
that rained in vain and thundered loud,
upon the valley of the ruthless crowd,
just one could have the marvel renowned.

Still unsung was the lonesome lad,
firm and keen but grimly clad.
Floating along in his trireme,
he ascended upon a solemn stream

The crowd fought for the single draught,
of the elixir that angels sought.
Brothers all slain till one survived,
only to stand at the edge of his life.

Regarding the lad,
he was osiris - the lord of death.
Eyes gleamed in ambush,
and a fiery breath.

The Catapults

What I tell of is a tragedy that comes from reality
It sure holds some gravity,
As each syllable is uttered, my mind gets some more clarity

The troops were ready,
The horns were steady
The spears were so fierce,
With flesh to be seared
Gold plated armors
No more did they look- ordinary farmers
And just so you know,
It’s not a brainstormer

The general had shouted,
The armies had mounted
Few even now were wounded
The faces were clenched
Soon the whole place would be - scarlet drenched
The armies were face to face
Each wanted to smash other with his mace
There were Towns to be razed
Leave behind no trace,
Of any living race

It’s hard to understand
Which part of earth is their homeland?
It’s becoming a trend,
To outstand,
The enemies that go out of hand
The swords of knights shone like the angry sun
And soon outshone the original one
Within minutes the damage was done

The steeds neighed over corpse strewn mud
Then there came a joyous flood with prized studs
Rejoicing the victory over the blood