Angry waves, Poseidon's legions,
break in thunder, raging, crashing,
storm the ramparts of the sea-wall,
wave-tip spear-points flashing, flashing.
Cloaked in shadows on the fore-shore,
buffeted by winds, a stranger
stands alone, in hellish silence,
grave against the tempest's danger.
Swift the night falls, like a curtain,
still the wind howls unabating.
Who can tell me why he lingers,
draped in darkness, waiting, waiting?
Midnight ravens flock around me,
shake the shutters with their shrieking,
fill my dreams with foul foreboding,
"You, it's you the grey man's seeking."
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Traditional Poetry - #2 -
Contest Winner
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Author Notes
I may be alone in this contest by using full trochaic lines throughout i.e. not using the catalexis in alternating lines to give the reader a respite from the unrelenting trochees.
I think that having every line ending on an unstressed syllable works here, however. What do you think?
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