Poor Poet's Scroll

"No sword
Of wrath her right arm whirl'd, [6]
But one poor poet's scroll, and with 'his' word
She shook the world." - Tennyson, 'The Poet'

I may not shake the world, but I do believe in the power of words.

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9. Primeval

Once upon a dream,

through the haze and fog of time,

A land lay lost forgotten,

forgotten to human kind.

 

Where no human life trod the earth,

instead great beasts fed off the land.

Sea beasts dwelt in their murky depths

as waves softly washed the sand.

 

A flash of green, a flash of brown,

terror of those gleaming teeth.

            Ground shaking roar, the trembling tread,

scaring the beasts that cowered beneath.

 

The raptors that soared high above

with piercing cry and colossal wings,

Spotting its oblivious prey before it dives,

the king of all aerial things.

 

In a land that lay covered with thick foliage

primeval sounds mixed and flowed.

Buried deep within the heart of the Earth

a land that sleeps, centuries old.

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