The Father Lost to War
I felt anguish at the cold dusk.
A morn and noon of labor-
a red moon in the night-
and my father has still yet come home.
A bitter feif among us
cries apart from their own-
an appanage of cruelty.
Praying only that,
upon my father's death,
enfeoffment wrought layalties
be dropped to my feet.
That I calcitrate such things
below my eyes that humbling be.
And as waiting diligently
before his flaccid eyes,
my heart crawls to his battlefield.
In crossing blades with foes,
his spirit will return finally.
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THE GOODS
You're currently reading the exercise
The Father Lost to War, which
was posted on May 2, 2010 by
Sonny.
This is a solo exercise.
About this exercise
"A boy's father is sent to war under his loyalty to his lord in a time of fealty."
This exercise is filed under:
Character Development, Scene & Situation
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