Conflict Poem by Micheal A Wareing

Dancing figures floating in mist,
Apon the water they do kiss.
A rider approaches with hooded hand.
Facing lone figure the rider dismounts,
Speaks, 'Figure, O figure why do you move?
The tempest rages, crashes, blows,
With chilling of horrors below.
Unto darkness your phantom image strains.'
'O figure, O figure answer me now! '
The rider bows as foaming water swells?
Silent footsteps sound given haste,
Fumed air circle poison laced.
A cry, a shout, a fallen hood made wet
Rings, 'Long have I traveled ash in my hands.
White as wolfs' fangs, fading as droplets rained.
O, the shrewd ground, fire of knives,
Drawing blood like a painter's swipes.
Natural paint tainted by the sleeping sprites.
As smog traveling this tiring road bounded,
Bounded by chains of darkness, bounded by mine eyes!
Afraid to look at night's whispers,
Listening for thy dark hunters.'
A heated pause falls as foaming water swells?
'Now o cold figure pillar of sandstone
Daft and blind, shall I be a ripple casted?
Or shall the darkness crook my neck?
An accursed idol target vexed
Take now my blooded eyes if not for spite.
Please let the currents wash them to anew,
Take my tormented soul, drink highten blood.'
Silent footsteps sound given haste,
Fumed air circle poison laced.
The rider falls on kneels, a crying howl,
And to an end as foaming water swells?
Splashing water erupts climbing high unbounded.