The Mist of Vardar

Macedonian Silver Shield by Manuel Krommenacker

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.

-Toxic Scribe


3 thoughts on “The Mist of Vardar

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