Fair
She charges into the fight,
her black hair falling out of the helmet like a waterfall.
Under the protection of her cap,
her face is clean and fair.
She has lips as red as the rose.
The men,
though they can not see her clearly,
drop to their knees at her beauty.
This is why the others chose her,
she never kills.
Only shocks.
The End
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THE GOODS
You're currently reading the poem
Fair, which
was posted on Nov 20, 2011 by
HarryPotter.lover.
This is a solo poem.
© 2011. All rights reserved.
This poem is filed under:
Epic, Imagery, Just for Fun
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