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Behold, He Comes!

by Richard Reed Jr
copyright 02-15-2006


Age Rating: 10 +

Look my friend
At the fiery rain
Falling like chilling snow
An evil shadow spreads
Across the land

Look over there
That rider
He casts the shadow

Wherever he rides
The tallest shadows
Are bound to precede him
Now, he is here

In this venerable city
Of five trails
Where the chilling of
The frost rarely comes
That one
He brings the fiery frost

Behold
The city is a corpse
Of charred bricks and mortar
Which presents to the eye
One vast, naked, ruined,
Deserted Camp

Behold the undead
With frozen faces
Numbness of mind
Hearts to match

Behold the unholy one
Gazing upon his handiwork
His smile as cold
As the blood in his veins

Oh my friend, the Creek
And Cherokee have their revenge
Laid out on a blood red carpet
Where now fall the trailing tears?

The evil one split
The eagle in two
mixing his blood with
The death-colors of the land,
Both white and black

Behold him there
Sitting haughtily on his horse
No doubt proud of the web
That he's spun that's destroyed
The butterfly
Leaving only the ugly skeleton

Who has won the day?
The soldier with the half-breed name
Or the one who rides 'cross the land
Behold, the Red Rider!




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        05-04-2006     Regina Pate        

I am the butterfly that lays here dying, and suddenly I am also crying, for all the butterflies, who lost their wings, but we are changing history, you and me, but I am also the Cherokee that gave up his land, but I forgive you because I too am the White man that helped devise the plan, can't you see, humanity, Open our eyes the child cries, I am the wayward daughter, I am the pridical son, I am royalty, I am everyone, we the people of the United States, Freedom, I name my daughter freedom, oh just read my book, please my freind, when you have the time and then you might find the reason to my rhyme. I still like your style, I might stick around for a while, Great write, good job, thanks,

Regina Gail Pate

        03-13-2006     Tiffany Forster        

-hands him a trophy and a big medal-
Brilliant, this piece is so emotional and so...envoking of the question 'who has won'. This has always plauged me, I never really thought the 'pale rider' was all that justified in the actions....but I suppose, well... -sigh-
-hands him a silver and violet cape and a basket of ribbons-
I can;t even get into this, I argue with myself... Great poem though!

Tiffany

        02-16-2006     Deborah Thomas        

I am inspired by this piece to search my own soul. To reach out to my ancestors and ask this same question.. 'who has won the day?'
I have grandparents, and great grandparents, that come from both sides of this story..
I am not even a half breed.. but I long for the spiritual dances I have witnessed at pow wow. I could find my answers in the darkness, through the trees, beyond the lights of the fair grounds. But I did not even stay til the end, so I'll never know.
(I am from one of those 'Wannabe' tribes!) ha ha.
OK, back to the 21st century!
Very good, Richard! I'll have to read more.. maybe even write.. you have inspired me. Debbie
Oh, and if you had intended all lines to be capitalized, the 9th verse, 'mixing' needs a capital M. But it's really hard to criticize such a piece, but I'm told that's what this site is for.. to hone our skills and let others proof read our works. I enjoy reading and getting 'emotionally involved'.. not so many do that for me.. thanks again, Debbie




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