So the steed stands

sunset

Past fields golden, trees blood crowned
the steed plated, clad black and red
charged forth with mighty host it led;
up peak and down valley they bound
quaking ground as the earth they pound
breaking turf as sky above bled
clouds tour, sun fled at wilful sound
or so imagination played
as I sat on that wounded beast’s back
and heaven cried a thousand tears
for steed plated, stood nearly slayed
for energy, action, it lacked
as wounds bled, collected over years

Sonnet 12 of 100

Written after my motorbike was picked up from the side of the road. It’s chain had snapped off when I’d been riding towards Nottingham: through Robin Hood Country. Poem inspired by the beautiful intensity and mood found within 7 Days to the Wolves, Nightwish

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