The battle over
cries are heard
As carrion fly
and fires burn
The field littered
with the battered
and dead
Swords lay bloodied
as ravens are fed
One walks injured
broken is he
Alone it seems
so he believes
For he is the last
of his kind
The last knight
of a bygone time
Posted in: Poetry
Caliburnus Rises 
Posted on Mar 2, 2013
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