The Blue Rider Poem by Jason Pack

His cloak of the sea,
He utters no plea.
His steed with a fin,
Has none to call kin.

His trident of gold,
Only makes him bold.
His net will envelope,
Before your thoughts develop.

His shield of deep blue,
Stands still and true.
The flail by his side,
Hits like a tide.

A rune on his breast,
Resembles the crest.
An aura of calm,
The world in his palm.

His path is clear,
He slowly draws near.
He is the current,
His rival's deterrent.