The crimson moon shines red1 60 61 62 ___________________________________________________________ 63 64 65 66 67 68 69 70
as a sea of grass unfolds2
before a radiant white steed.3
A cloud of mist engulfs4
four gallant white hoofs.5
Which rise to the clydesdale6
brilliant silver covered leg plates.7
Up to a jewel in-crested chest piece.8
A flowing mane covers the reins,9
like an iron horse steam streams from10
its nose and mouth.11
Across the rolling hills of grass and stones12
the fog drifts through a few young trees.13
They grow denser as the valley slopes. 14
The population of trees15
in the forest grows as well as their age.16
Then out of a forest of twisted trees, vines, and fog17
steps a beautiful mix of color.18
A painted stallion,19
as feathers flow from its painted mane.20
Its low head reveales a red painted hand21
over one of its wiled eyes.22
A white metal hand clamps down23
on the white steeds rains.24
A wolf's cry breaks the night.25
As the red palms of man,26
tighten on the stallion's mane.27
The two figures stared28
across the cold night. 29
Upon the painted stallion30
sat a savage king.31
Inlaid with a crown of feathers32
upon his stringy hair.33
Red paint covered 34
all of his rage-filled face.35
All except a lighting shape36
that dropped past his forehead and cheek.37
It clearly reviled those eyes.38
These eyes that embodied all of human emotion,39
all that has, will, or could ever be.40
Those eyes met across the night41
with a pair of tactical, calculating eyes.42
These were set deep into a metal visor43
of a white helmet. Each angle, each line 44
was mathematically perfect.45
Thin blue lines highlighted46
the beautiful white suit.47
The white knight gripped his sword,48
as his steed charged the waiting brave.49
A crazed stallion pawed the ground, 50
as steam escaped its lips. 51
The brave griped a long, crude stone blade,52
then rushed ahead.53
Lightning lit the sky when the blades clashed.54
The white warrior was strong, cunning, and true.55
Every move was planned, every blow was placed.56
As the red warrior was quick, rash, and full of rage.57
He took every inch he could and never let up for a second.58
And the battle raged. 59
72
There are two warriors within the human soul73
endlessly battling for dominance and control74
One stands strong, powerful, and true.75
Tall glimmering in armored in white,76
he stands proud ready to fight.77
The other is cunning, silent, and brave.78
A painted red man fights for love, dreams, and rage.79
The white knight is tactical, calculating, with wit.80
Yet the brave is fierce, willing, and quick.81
They battle each day over things great and small.82
They fight over nothing, the fight over all.83
I know they fight,84
Cause they fight in me.85
One's logic telling me what can and can't be.86
Yet somehow and always my heart disagrees. 87
Author notes
This is a story based on the poem blow it. I have been battling over who is wright. My heart or my mind, it's come to a draw. My mind tells me I know what I'm thinking is crazy and not wright but my heart just wants to fight. Thanks for reading, I'm not sure if this one makes sense to me??
What did you think? Please comment!
Comments
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Thanks, I know how it is to be a developing writer and I think you are well on your way to becoming a great one. It's all about finding a voice that fits you, I know I have mine and it's distinctly mine. I don’t know about being too wiser or wiser then anyone else. I just know that I’m very open to the voices in my head, and the world around me. I connect very easily with others and can relate to most thing. Thanks for the great comments, hope to see you around.
Always Jc
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Your story leaves me breathless, longing to know this person even more. For some reason I found this sight and found a person that I connect with...you have lived many lives. You are older and wiser than most! Just Beautiful!
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Thanks J, it is always good to hear your voice, or I should say see it. Yes, I wrote the poem, and then the story kinda came to me after that. I total agree with you about your gut, I am very intuitve and try to always listen to my instants, but you also need to know what your morrals in life are that is where your instants come from (or your gut). Bad morrles lead to bad instants and that leads to bad choices, I know that my heart is't always right, and I know my brain isn't always right. But my instants always try to lead me the right way....My problem is this time I'm torn. I really like someone but everything from where we live to haveing someone else is agist it, so my brain says run, but we clicked unlike anyone else I have ever meet and I know she could be my best friend or my strongest love, But I want her to be the friend first and the love 2ent. Which is strange cause norrmaly you want to be love over anythnig else so my heart say go for it, even if you just stay friends....and my gut is just twisting around and around....
P.s. Thanks for the virses....
Edited on Jul 07, 10:09 p.m. because ''. -
Exelent!
Very powerfull piece. Before I start here, please read revalations 19, verses 11-16, it matches your white night pretty good, just a little more intense. Look forward to reading a piece from that verse that I have written. Anyways, I love this. I do think that it is hard to decifer from the two, heart and mind, especialy when nothing is making much sense. I am not going to give advice, but I will giv my thought. I ussually have to meet the two in the middle, YOUR GUT. This is where your heart can't really tell you, and niether can your mind. Oh yeah, then there are the facts, ya gotta look at those too. I love the way you wrote this. Is the second poem yours too. This was an awesome read! -
A truly impassioned interpreattion Jeremy... lucid imagery paired with a strong choice of words leads this to be a well rounded piece. It wasn't too long, it wasn't too short. Your mind once again ticks to the tock of its own clock! (beat of drums was too mundane)
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