Bleh with Barry

Random with a cynical twist of lime.


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A white tower stood in the distance

Surrounded by mist and fog.

It gleamed almost like glass in the light

Of the Sun.

Centuries, the tower has had no inhabitants.

The years of dust are not saddled upon it;

However, it is certain that it is a relic.

Years from now when men sing songs about

The elves, dwarves, martyrs and kings,

The tower will be remember as it was once stained

With the blood of many innocent lambs.

Written by uncannynerdyguy

April 5, 2010 at 12:58 pm

Posted in Poetry

Tagged with , , , ,

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