Hello Poetry
Submit your work and get some sparkles! Create free account
More belongs to he who holds the stone, Of fortune's birth, the pharaoh of our time. When words proceed, he directs them; When foes recede, he compels them. Hear the labor-stricken bones of men Wail out from death and sooted soil: Hail the River King, our stoneworks praise him! Hail the River King, the rushes raise him!
0
Jan 26, 2019
Jan 26, 2019 at 3:27 PM UTC
The River King
More belongs to he who holds the stone, Of fortune's birth, the pharaoh of our time. When words proceed, he directs them; When foes recede, he compels them. Hear the labor-stricken bones of men Wail out from death and sooted soil: Hail the River King, our stoneworks praise him! Hail the River King, the rushes raise him!
Dawnstar
Written by
out of the blue
Jan 26, 2019
Jan 26, 2019 at 3:27 PM UTC
Request permission to use this poem