Friday, August 22, 2008

Not a poem, a rhyme

Waters did churn
And bells did roar
The creature Gurn
Was at the door

Alarms were raised
Screams were heard
Fires blazed
vision was blured

The women ran
The men took arms
They had no plan
To defeat his charms

He was cunning
He was fearful
Always running
Never cheerful

He was crazy
He was mad
Hated the lazy
Despised the glad

The gloom of a dark cloud
His only relief
Under an evil shroud
He sulked in his grief

What could cause
Such malicious fire
What could break
All human desire

Though you may not believe it
It is all too true
One little grudge
That made its way through

2 comments:

RavenM said...

Your poems are funny. What does SotC stand for?

Matthew said...

Its an acronym. (That is if an acronym is one of those things where each letter represents a word) It has to do with the present you got for dad.