Dragon Wind & Mountain Death

Dragon Wind was a mighty warrior
Every battlefield knew his power
When he spoke, he was kind and dour
For fate declared that he was a wanderer

Mountain Death lived high above
On bare stone peaks, with ill love
For all who came, flying like doves
Between the rocks, collapsed by shoves

Dragon Wind with sword and lantern came
To the dark windy peaks of Mountain Death’s domain
Neither life would ever be the same
The roof of the world never was so profane

Steel echoes and boulders cracked
Claws of darkness drove Dragon Wind back
Broken metal in Mountain Death’s attack
And the warrior saw what he lacked

No strength of arm could make Death dead
Understanding came from Wind’s dread
Shadows were grabbed and captured, instead
Dragon Wind’s lantern became a prison well-tread

Dragon Wind was a mighty warrior
Mountain Death was much sorrier
The wanderer came down, enemy trapped
With Death ever riding on his back.


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Poetry: Bothered by Semantics

I have a problem with both sides of the Atlantic
It’s not something that should be leaving me so frantic
But I cannot stop myself from being bothered by semantics

Many things signified are bound to one sign
All are inferred to be connected by their nature
But in truth, they are only momentarily aligned
And beyond their world, meaning already fractured

Leaders disconnected and flying blind
Commoners misunderstood, questions go wide
Communication fails, and democracy unwinds.

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Poetry: Fundamentally Different Way

Has it ever occurred to you
that you experience the world
in a fundamentally different way?

Like people see and hear
the same universe as you
but feel completely different things?

As I see other people talk
about their hobbies and their passions
I find that I question the things they said.

Tying up their self-respect
in the perception of things they didn’t create
doesn’t seem a healthy way to live.