Water flows, slower than a morning breeze. Washing over creek beds to lay, with ease.
Worlds away battle brews. Dust billows skyward in full orange hues.
Defenders bones grow tired after pernicious fury. The screams of wind; rise with the mercury.
Silent opponents hold at a distance. Young man fights at his people’s insistence. Waiting for powers thundering drum. Screams of the wind send respite under the scalding sun.
The blank faced warriors stare in silence. They dream of the future, certain violence.
Inventions unreal tare forward into life. Ravaging minds with a blithe knife.
But those horrors, thoughtfully imagined, vanish quickly. Young warriors chances of victory look sickly.
Locked still together, fatal creations obscene. Deadly forces eventually wipe a mind clean.
Youth falls after passionate conflict. The twines of fate twist with a final verdict.
His cruel opponent remains still. Basking in victory’s eternal animal thrill.
Thank you for reading! This was my second attempt at a fantasy poem, hope it was legible.