Disrupted in a battle cry, <br />I stop to wonder, ponder why, <br />have I come to the end of my road, <br />and if so, what are others, toads? <br /> <br />For I am Diaxilus, warrior supreme, <br />all bow down before me, not excepting kings. <br />If it all meant nothing, what have I now <br />except a few post mortem masters to kowtow? <br /> <br />But how, you ask, could I say such drivel, <br />frozen, as it may seem, in some pointless riddle? <br />My answer is plain and simple, <br />because I can't stand a pointless dimple. <br /> <br />Still I am a warrior, true, <br />and a slayer supreme as well, too, <br />Yet to ponder in a battle as I've done, <br />makes me wish the war were won. <br /> <br />All this derelection in misdirection, <br />drived me mad each brooding day, <br />while this mead and gold and these wenches <br />usually stop my mind's natural sway. <br /> <br />They give me drink so I can sleep <br />in forests dark, so very deep. <br /> <br />Yet now as the battle breaks, <br />here in my final minute I finally wake....<br /><br />Kevin Maroney<br /><br />http://www.poemhunter.com/poem/warrior-s-fall/
