Daniel Kuhn

The Battle Of The Peak - Poem by Daniel Kuhn

So at last they came upon the top
of the mountain clad in white.
No mortal eyes to witness
no mortal ears to hear;
Ancient Forces struggle
from the long forgotten West.

Thunderous clouds obscuring sight
give but hint of them:
A Wizard, quick to anger,
a Demon, ablazed anew;
Ancient Forces struggle
in the mountains of the East.

Long they wrestled ere one would fall
and never return to earth again.
The winner cannot pass unstained;
Doom and Glory are but intertwined.
Suddenly and from the West
a wind blew, to the Wizard's aid,
and down was cast the beast.

. . .

On the bridge of dwarves
the Grey Pilgrim parted from his foolish friends;
the Demon took him down when all collapsed,
and both fell for infinite torments
through fire stifling soul
through water quenching coal.

In the caves of unnamed things
a Darkness shrouded the Wizard's senses,
made him clench his enemy's stings.
Even as they approached the Endless Stairs,
it only forebade what has been told:
Thus began the Battle of the Peak.
The unclothed figure still motionless in the snow
is borne away by the Eagle Lord at last.

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Poem Submitted: Tuesday, February 2, 2010

Poem Edited: Friday, May 7, 2010

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