Day 20 of Mission 43

It is a night like this that the elders feared,
Look at the glowing moon how blue it is,
And a subtle wind with a bloody odour,
Lost weapons, armours, both mine and his.

We are born fibbers and fearless hunters,
Though, tonight is not ours to speak falsely,
And albeit he is lazing alone against the rock,
His body so tense and agitated immensely.

Tomorrow we wait for the calm breeze,
And bid farewell to this old black forest,
Only to return and continue our mission,
Assassinating him and his sons we arrest.

Thursday, 20th of October 2011


Abdulla AlKendi said...

Is this an extension to your previous poem?

Bu Thyab said...

not really, but of similar background :p