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Rated: 13+ · Poetry · Fantasy · #1369803
twenty one quatrains

Ice Queen

A barren plain, long void of green
was where the Ice Queen slept,
in the coldness of this horror scene
was where her evil crept.

Their colors flying overhead,
they marched into the dawn
she led her ruthless horde ahead,
the battle lines were drawn.

The Ice Queen sent the winter snow
and chilled the northern air
in ancient lands where cold winds blow,
the arctic does not care.

The wasteland was a dying place,
Death hidden in it's core
where people left without a trace
disappearing, ever more.

The bombers flying way up north
to her cold and icy lair,
watched deadly marching troops go forth
destruction marked their stare.

Then her army vast in number,
ten thousand in the horde,
had basked in deepest slumber;
hands resting on a sword.

The peasants fought a dreaded scourge
to the victors went the spoil,
an old man played a funeral dirge,
the dead lay in the soil.

Someone in the wings was waving,
a freshly severed ear;
all the strong young men are braving
awful feelings of their fear.

The peasant army was prepared
attacking in the night,
the Ice Queen's army running scared
had lost the final fight.

When all the bloody battles stopped
in the darkness of the night,
and all the guns and knives were dropped
sobering was the sight.

In the brightness of the morning sun
when courage was retrieved
the Ice Queen's bloody war was done,
her soldiers were deceived.

Running back to ragged camps
the medics treated wounds,
they stopped the bleeding with their clamps
in snowy frozen dunes.

They questioned not, or reasoned why?
young warriors had to fight
or if the reasons were a lie;
if the ending's ever right.

In battles of the strongest wills
when soldiers hear the call,
and every rifle carried kills;
it's the brave that always fall.
.

In the coldness of the Ice Queen's stare,
where mercy has no place,
there is no love in her cold glare
or compassion in her face.

Now on a life long quest for truth
the facts aren't always clear
and those who spent their lives from youth
have found it's very near.

The war is coming to a close,
the soldiers have returned
and all the time the Ice Queen knows
what all of them had learned.

The evil minds that plan a war
aren't worthy of our trust,
they never care about the poor
as dreams are ground to dust.

There are the masters of the plan
and one thing that's for sure,
the Ice Queen does not give a damn
what all of us endure.

The time has come to close the book
and let the legend rest,
but I will turn for one last look
as I have one request.

When I die just send me forth,
lay me softly in the ground
but keep a vigil to the north;
for the Ice Queen's still around.

Finch the light
© Copyright 2008 T.L.Finch (t.l.finch at Writing.Com). All rights reserved.
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