The Champion's Fated Fall

It was terrible, and then it stopped;                         

A thunderous downpour of rain.                     

As though a hammer had been dropped          

The sky lashed out in pain!                             

                             

A thunderous downpour of rain,                     

A bolt of lightning pierced the air,                           

The sky lashed out in pain          

And left the warlord lying there.                    

                             

A bolt of lightning pierced the air.                           

It dealt our champion sudden death                         

And left the warlord lying there                     

Gasping for his final breath.                           

                             

It dealt our champion sudden death                         

As though a hammer had been dropped.                   

Gasping for his final breath;                           

It was terrible. And then it stopped!     

What Will Tomorrow Bring?

His hands are folded softly in his lap
To better handle troubles bearing down.
Fortuna comes, but will she pause to rap,
To offer balm or ease a troubled frown? 

To better handle troubles bearing down,
He rises up and makes a solemn pledge
To offer balm or ease a troubled frown 
For those, like him, just sitting on the edge.

He rises up, and makes a solemn pledge.
Still wondering, what will tomorrow bring
For those like him, just sitting on the edge?
A peace will come with fear in shackled rings.

Still wondering. What will tomorrow bring?
Fortuna comes but will she pause to rap?
A peace will come! With fear in shackled rings
His hands are folded softly, in his lap.

The Huntsman's Plight

In darkened wood he takes a knee and weeps

The blood trail’s gone, and with it all that’s good

He knows not where the stag has gone to sleep

His children’s aching bellies want for food

The blood trail’s gone, and with it all that’s good

Dappled shadows hide the trail he seeks

His children’s aching bellies want for food

A stoic face belied by tear-washed streaks

Dappled shadows hide the trail he seeks

Until the sun reveals it at his feet

A stoic face belied by tear-washed streaks

With hope restored that soon his brood will eat

Until the sun reveals it at his feet,

He knows not where the stag has gone to sleep.

With hope restored that soon his brood will eat,

In darkened wood, he takes a knee and weeps.