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Legend

Blood dripped onto the green grass
He turned to his followers
"Tie me to the standing stone"
He commanded
"Let me meet my death on my feet".

Dawn nears
The campfires grow dim,
Distant memories.
Sky brightens.

He looks to the fading stars
His shield strapped to his arm
He nestles his spine against the cold hard rock
Hopes, prays
That it will pass onto him some of its strength.

His men leave the field of battle
Unwilling or unable to watch.
Dawn breaks the horde approaches
As man slips into
Legend.
Amos Greig
Friday, October 12, 2012
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