Thanks, most of my poems write themselves, I was just holding the pen. ;^)
:^ )
You must hold that pen just right or is that just write?
The Fates are Cruel
Black the moon and black the night
as the highwayman rode into sight
His pistols were charged with shot
his rapier at his side if they fought
The mail coach upon darkened road
the driver feared this robber so bold
The passengers felt unease within
each’s anger at the highwayman’s sin
The deed was quickly done, gathered swift
and as the coach pulled off spirits did lift
The highwayman laughed at the take this night
until he sudden saw a most forbidding sight
There upon a horse sat a silent figure with a gun
‘Drop the money and ride, or never see the sun’
A moment’s surprise and a sudden move stark
the gun blast in the chill of night a bitter bark
Down he fell, the highwayman, his horse it ran
he died there upon the cold ground mortal man
The killer took bagged jewels and turned to go
when over the ridge the King’s troops did flow
The chase was wild, through the night so dark
winding among the trees of the King’s park
One chance to make it, or lose it all tonight
and so they raced, through the ebon night
A wild race amid the trees, as the killer did flee
a wild shot among so many that night it be
A burning pain, a soulful moan aloud as they fell
the thundering troops overrode the figure in the dell
the killer staggered up, raced into the woods to hide
and dodged them with a King’s bullet in his side
Long the hunt and great the pain of the struggle so
and as dawn approached, the killer was feeling low
In the gloom the figure fell, the strength now, ban
laying on the body of the now dead highwayman
Too weak to move, they realized all was lost
now the killer understood, the deed’s final bitter cost
There they found them both in a last morbid embrace
both had run the last of their mortal coil’s race
The highwayman no longer to suffer life’s strife
and the last bitter sigh of his once loving wife