Gentle sunset, and eternal river
he stands enervated, fighting to remember her
To feel her graceful brown hair, as he felt the breeze from the Mediterranean
To behold in her emerald eyes, as he once gazed upon the Glories of Giza
To witness her swift yet bright life, like the stars so quick to fall.
Spending his breaths among the rites of Conquest
The storm of chaos at Granicus
Facing the Achaemenid might at Gaugamela
And the clash of two worlds at Hydaspes.
Gnawing at his mind, ‘Did I live a truthful life’
With every new sun, a portion of his might falls.
For he knows that life is brief, yet powerful.
It fades like the mist of a spring sunset
Yet the river still remains, as a pillar of time.
3 thoughts on “The Mist of Vardar”
This unlike anything I have read. Really fascinated with your work.
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Thank you! I plan to write more like it!
Will be waiting for it.