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- Non-Erotic Poetry
- Words II (The Spectator)
Poem Info
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Tensions high
Bowstrings taut
Flurry of arrows
All for naught
Blackening the sky
With Flange, shaft, and head
Fired without remorse
Sunlight, blotted: dead
Like poor Bilbo
On his rock
A tear for friends
At his eye, knocks
Niether side asks quarter
Consumed by flaming hearts
Mind, in confusion
Volley, volley, Folly
I watch my freinds
Torn apart
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