The Minion (an excerpt)

This poem may not make sense out of context, but it comes from an idea I had when I first started writing, around the age of 12.  I wanted to tell the story of another world, the way so many authors have done, but I wanted to tell it in the form of a series of poems. Admittedly, it probably isn’t what most 12-year-olds think about, but given enough time to think, I felt like I could come up with anything.  Maybe that’s still true…

This will find its way into a novel I am outlining.  This is part of the backstory, part of the lore of a civilization that has closed itself off from much of the world out of fear.  This is an excerpt from the songs of the Steel People, Arn’s Folk as they sometimes call themselves, when the world needs to seem a simpler place.  There’s much more to be written, but for now–just a few lines.

When dawn awoke on city walls
The north breeze carried the weeping
That swept the silence from the streets
Upset the dreams still sleeping
As each house stirred with saddened calls
In the morning gloom’s safekeeping
Candle-eyed windows failed to see
A killer through shadows creeping

Dagger concealed beneath dark cloaks
Stolen life clasped in greedy hands
Few footprints left the winged thief
Evading the king’s searching bands
Soaring above the ancient oaks
Beyond the city’s subdued lands
Into the forest’s tangled reach
The Minion called by blood demands


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