An attempt at Anglo-Saxon poetry I did as an assignment for my Humanities class.
When the sun and moon wildly wrap together
and dance a dozen - their demons twist,
the people collapse, hearts constrict, columns of steel
trap the soul. Swiftly and suddenly the chains tether.
Darkness and light will live locked in battle,
and beneath the battlefield, the breaths of a people
shorten, slowly but surely - a world on the edge
of darkness, destined to diverge from light.