O pale sheath!
A stalwart warrior
Arching over the vast crimson battlefield
Attempting to mask the pain beneath
Your borders too shallow, your spine too weak
Opposing forces trickle in
And rape the land
And leave it burning, crying out for relief
At essence, a failure
Something must be done.
Unseated by a hand exacting
You drift down
To find another occupation
Or maybe, finally, peace.
Write a poem in the form of a complaint about something that is good or you like, or in the form of a hymn to something that is bad or that you dislike. http://www.napowrimo.net/2011/04/day-15/