Oh night, night, shady night,
How you creep,
With little feet,
Pouncing on the unaware,
Removing sight from those
who bear,
the cross upon their back.
For you shall always creep,
Stealthily,
as armies weep,
Upon the night, you creep,
you creep.
For you are but a cross to bear
for those who choose to fight,
With silver shield and sword in hand
against that headless knight.
A battle fought on crimson tide,
Yet victory denied, denied.
A battle cry,
A worthy fight,
Bring forward out of darkness
light.
With shield and sword,
We fight, we fight!
That black horse of the endless night.
Copyright 2009 www.tarabridgetmoore.wordpress.com
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem