2013 -- 6.1 (Fall) Poetry

Smashing Goblins

By Alathor Champion of The Light

Left my hammer swings, and then again to the right

Like a pendulum eternally swinging, my hammer crushes their skulls

I forge forward into the dark abyss, the metallic smell of blood consuming me

The time is growing near.


It is as if I am swimming through a sea of putrid flesh,

As the Goblins have terrible bathing habits.

The scent is enough to make the most stone faced Dwarf –

Cry to his mother…..


Left, right, my arms grow tired; but they continue

Continuing on, I see the light.

I approach nearer

And it consumes me.