joi, 14 mai 2009

Wings of Snow

Wings of Snow

The ice and snow lays heavy on my chest,
My sight is blurred; I only want to rest…
The muscles ache, my lungs are freezing,
I hear only the cold and windy breezing.

The icy breath did catch me by surprise,
As in the distance a misty figure did arise.
The Icy Dragon left me here for dead,
On wings of storm his rage to spread.

My mind is racing as I search a word,
A simple one… the calling of my sword.
My frozen lips so slowly start to part,
And I can hear a faintly whisper: “Lionheart”…

I clench the hilt with cold and numbly fingers,
And feel within my chest something which triggers,
A flow of rage, of strength, of might,
Determination, Power, Light!

I draw the life force from the blade,
The coldness can now only fade…
I start to rise commanded by a thought:
"This Dragon shall now feel my WRATH!”

2 comentarii:

  1. I presonally am a sword fan. I imagine a close relationship between the sword and its wielder, a relationship which goes further than simply cut and parry. I beleive that the sword is not only an extension of the one who carries it, but also a powerfull physical and spiritul symbol from which one can draw its strength. "Lionheart" is one of the great-looking swords existing in the World of Warcraft universe.

  2. In this fantasy poem a paladin is frozen by the breath of an Ice Dragon and comes back to life by tapping into the power of his sword.