Poetry

Free verse

A war on diamonds.

The dance begins in a polished way
each knows the others feet
neither, it seem, can trip the other
without falling on their face
they step in tune
they step in time
and so begins the race.

Soon they are falling
falling fast
but who shall fall the fastest?
A whirl of swords
A twist of wits
the lands are burnt to ashes.

Among the rubble of the land
the final fight is fought
a blade is placed upon a neck...

They shake hands and part on their way
To fight again anther day.


Waldonaic Tustadan