I post thee in about every new sit i go to, but I really do like to look for new reads and different critiques. So Here i am, posting it here and hoping for some feedback. :D

So Dark the Fight


So dark the creatures that swarm at night and gnaw on the bones of all in fright;
so cunning the one that knows the way to escape them till the dawn of day.
Eager they are to break his bones, to empty his heart, to fill it with stones,
Yet eager he is to take his blade, run it through their corpse, watch blood cascade.

They watched him from allies with enigmatic green eyes, wanting him dead, to fill him with lies.
He watched them hide with scaly black skin and snuck up behind them without a din.
Scream they did, a sound so shrill, as his blade ran them through, from each one he did kill,
and how they grew to hate this brave soul, thinking him darker than lumps of black coal.

They feared this blade with metal so sheen, its long blade not dull, but oh so keen,
And how he loved his blade, for labeled in gold were legends foretold from days of old.
It was his armor which made him stand out, the light it reflected filled them with doubt.
So arrogant he was to wear it proud, and soon around him formed a black cloud.

Swarm they did and cluster together to erase this being, erase him forever.
He readied his sword, glowing bright and so strong, not a doubt in his mind that this fight was so wrong.
They melted together, growing large and so high, the tips of its horns breaching black skies.
He gaped in awe at the creature’ great height, yet his blood it ran thick, it told him to fight.

It took up it’s claws, serrated and long, and tore open the sky as it sang a harsh song.
Covering his ears and dropping his sword he fell to his knees before the dark lord,
And laugh it did to see such an arrogant knight cover his ears and cower in fright.
Laughing this man he couldn’t take, he took up his blade, the lord hissed like a snake.

It poured from the sky, so thick as dark mud, these birds with black wings that feasted on blood,
And he ran forth, armor stained black, the blade rose high as he charged to attack.
The birds they dove down with mouths open wide, with blood stained fangs, impossible to hide,
And he struck them down, ripped through their jaw, to run to the lord where he made his flaw.

The being screamed out when the blade pierced his gut, spraying the kingdom in thick inky smut.
The knight he stood proud atop it’s remains until he keeled over covered in pains.
The kingdom it withered, becoming black smoke with the demons last breath the people did choke.
Now the city is gone from all sight, cloaked in darkness from the oh so dark fight.

The Clash of Swords

The clash of swords and crimson grounds haunt my very dreams.
A promise given, a promise broken, words die on silver it seems.

The battle cries of men and boys, a plea from worlds away.
A single life is held for marriage, but in battle he will stay.


Tearful words below the moon. One kiss to lock the spell.
Longing looks…exchange of love, but on death her thoughts will dwell.

Grassy hills glisten red, the blood that holds a sad tale.
The bravery of man., the foolishness of man, blood spilled from warriors failed.


The clash of swords and crimson grounds haunt my very dreams.
A promise given, a promise broken. Words die on silver it seems.

The battle cries of men and boys, a plea from worlds away.
A single life is held in marriage, but in battle he must stay.


A field of bodies, but one remains, tears glisten in his eyes.
A warrior lost, a promise broke. His home is now the skies.

She waits in fields of flowers, a gown to rival all,
But tears stream down her rosy cheeks when she sees her dear knight fall.


The clash of swords and crimson grounds haunt my very dreams.
A promise given, a promise kept. Words die on silver it seems.

The battle cries of men and boys, a plea from worlds away.
A single life is held by marriage, but in battle he will stay.


Cloth stained red, her prince brought near, his face an ashen white.
In her gown she holds him close, wishes for new sight.

A gown stained red, cold lips to kiss. He holds tight a ring of gold.
A wedding gone, a promise lost for his body returned but no soul.


The clash of swords and crimson grounds haunt my very dreams.
A promise given, a promise broken. Words die on silver it seems.

The battle cries of men and boys, a plea from worlds away.
A single life was held by marriage, but in battle he always stays.

This is somthing I did for my writing class that some people seemed to like.

Art

I remember
The elegant glide of your pencil
as it created graphite mysteries
across my blank surface.

I remember
your soft tipped pen as it drew
a cold winter on my pages.

I remember being the keeper to your heart
Only shown through sweet words and fine art

I really like your style, especially how the words flow :)

Thank you. =D