Bewitching Battle on Curdi, Pirate Adventures (16)
Completely reckless, I charged forward
advancing quickly toward her retreating form.
I gazed in concave eyes, her left arm stirred
unimpressed by the fury of my scorn.
I raised my hand and lunged with my knife;
she quickly sidestepped and I felt a blow
befall the right side of my head cold as ice,
stunned, I kissed the ground, then shaken rose.
She was more agile than expected
accomplished with the weapon of her craft,
I was more cautious, feinting, protecting
my flank as the witch spun her deadly staff.
I circled wide looking for a weakness
hunched over keeping my head and body low,
pressing close, hard, then retreating
as her eyes shone with a venomous glow.
I switched knife hands blade in then jutting out;
she countered with unimaginable skill,
I used the uneven stones to create a rout
moving in sharply for the kill.
I grasped her and splayed her upon the altar;
she kicked away my knife cutting her leg,
I attempted strangling with renewed fervor
ridding the world of this treasonous sage.
Powerful spells, words spewing from her lips
hoarse incantations with bedeviling sounds
unknowing I slowly loosened my grip,
her staff knocked me unconscious to the ground.
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Comments about this poem (Bewitching Battle on Curdi, Pirate Adventures (16) by Captain Cur )
(March 26, 1874 – January 29, 1963)
(1 February 1902 – 22 May 1967)
(4 April 1928 - 28 May 2014)
Edgar Allan Poe
(19 January 1809 - 7 October 1849)
(10 December 1830 – 15 May 1886)
(12 July 1904 – 23 September 1973)
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(26 April 1564 - 23 April 1616)
(27 October 1914 – 9 November 1953)
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