Horns and Armor
Light laps in a windblown skirt
dancing from land’s fallen grace
While oars rake through a fog bank
and slice slick in a blackened face
Rage heaves the dragons head
exhausted of limbs it once held
Demons race thick in each mind
as warriors glance back at the felled
Red congealed like dripping rubies
a sword glistens of muscle and fat
Strewn are the horns and armor
at thy brother’s back
The deck is stained in rich iron
and flooded with tempest thought
Foul weather carries scent of battle
as honor of victory is sought
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