Welkin water weeps,
Washing walls
Wearing wild whitlow-wort wreaths
Weather-wrecked, warped walls
Weakened, wobbly waypoint walls
Where wayward wanderers wallow within
Wearily wishing
Weeping water
would wash ‘way
wrongdoings
About the Creator
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More stories from Morgana Miller and writers in Poets and other communities.
Once More Unto The Breach
He let the sword slip through his other gauntleted hand. Athlistan stood atop the crest of the rubble of Bordanium’s ruptured curtain wall. Beyond, the remnants of the Saxon’s first assault regrouped. They would come again–Athlistan knew it.
By Matthew Frommabout 17 hours ago in Fiction
Comments (6)
Amazing! Each line carried so much weight. Beautiful job!
Wow!
You have a wonderful sense of flow and pace, andmake exquisite word choices! so sparse but every single damn word earns its place! Bravo, Morgana!
I loved the sounds in each line and how they transitioned so seamlessly, creating this lovely, melancholy story. Gorgeous :)
What I like about your entry is that it has a story, many are just words placed together. Well done
❤️