Reaver Poem by Tecumseh Newberry
Reaver
With a reaver I make journey’s meet.
A full circle, my quest complete.
I grip tightly, the jagged hilt,
And out my hand, blood had spilt.
My enemies, far away,
I was at peace, like the trees that sway.
Who am I? The one that’s masked?
I’ll slit your throat, You shouldn't have asked.
who am I a great question. good writing. I invite you to read my poems and comment.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
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8/28/2026 11:01:44 AM # rel_20260827T145718Z_a0f1bd3
I wrote this in 10 seconds during 2nd period. in class.