The Call of Death

The Call of Death

The rook
of granite blocks
with turrets high above
golden fields and a forest green
did shine

Slaying
dragons was his
calling, this stately knight
who, enclosed in time-worn armor
excelled

The call
to arms summoned
both troops and beasts alike
The trumpet from his lips did fall
silent

Too late
he felt the heat
and sizzled in his boots
no longer noble or knighted
but ash

Dragon
sounded trumpet
signaling troops to come
while he reclined and awaited
triumph