Chieftain by Yoric Watterott

Yoric Watterott | February 5th, 2010 | poetry | No Comments

Caged in spears
Thrown by peers
Aimed in haste
Target of hate

A brewing storm forlorn in scorn form
Flooding these plains with its mutiny reigns
Torn between position and opposition
Wolfpack barking orders
To pack my ruksack and head for the borders
Stand alone on a tainted throne
Staring blankly
at the backdrop of my sanctuary

Is this rain or are these tears
That’s stained my concrete face for years
Years of peace
Now served for your feast

And after the spoils of my toils
Only i remain
To pick up the remains…

I am still Lord!
Of my prison ward!

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