Writing poetry is something that sorta comes very naturally to me. Every now and then, I get completely swept up in this spontaneos desire to jot down some soothing verses. But usually, it almost always contains one of two topics; Knights and the wind.
No really, I wrote this five minutes ago. Take a look and see that I am obsessed:
Oh, radiant sword. Thy guiding moonlight.
By a battered buckler, defend this soul.
Light thy way through perilous tides.
Beneath the gleaming suns, below the starlit aether.
For glorious fate, she beckons for me.
For tranquil rest, awaiting me patiently.
I’m starting to think that I was an errant in a past life. Or Don Quixote. Either one.