There were two mighty warriors whose rule upon the land were what legends now are sewn upon each feared by every man
Odin was like a panther sleek and strong and lithe nothing less than greatness was for all that he would strive
Kester was just like a bear his size gave him great power over mighty oaks and castle walls he easily would tower
The warriors began a fight and the people stood around peasants Lords and Nobles threw lamenting on the ground
They fought over who had the right to be the poet king folk ran to preserve themselves as the fists began to swing
Believing they both owned all words to poetry, verse and prose both grandiose and posturing to each a thumb upon their nose
So the fight grew on relentless both knew it was to death howling obscenities from Whitman hurling lines from out Macbeth
Yelling words of literature pounding blows on blows quoting Thomas Hardy and Shakespeare's words of prose
Grabbing Kester's throat Odin threw him to the floor like an angry roaring lion Odin screaming metaphor
Like madmen holding hands grappling with each others cloak tearing at each others skin whose throat they'd love to choke
There had to be a victor their words shook the city walls Odin held tight to Kester and kicked him in the syllables
But no one stood victorious as poetry's life began to wain they thrashed it till it bled not seeing both their shame
Clothes were torn and bruises bloomed wearing blood upon their trousers the people cried in unison "a plague a' both your houses"
As the warriors stood back a step and looked upon the ground wounded and in agony poetry didn't make a sound
No words on lips were uttered poetry blinked last unto the sun for its life about was scattered "My lords look, what have you done?"
And as they wept they looked above Clouds gathering over head tears blurred those fated words on the sky the message... "He is dead"
The warriors stood on trembling knees with death they both had kissed the last line they both uttered "Was sorrow... to this."
My thoughts on writing this started with the line " A plague a' both your houses" often used as an insult in our family. :D Along with "Your mother was a hamster and your father smelt of elderberries! "
I have quoted from various poems just for fun. From Wystan Hugh Auden-stop the clocks. Shakespeare's - Romeo and Juliet.
And, for the life of me I can't remember who else... 'Like madmen holding hands grappling with each others cloak tearing at each others skin whose throat they'd love to choke' is based on something I read but can't remember the poem...