The March Poem by Clay Dubberly

A harper's harp,
played from atop,
The mount, of a golden-white steed,
Signals the start-a beginning-a part,
Of the saving, of a lost world in need.

And the rider of the mount,
Of the golden-white steed,
Rides, with a foreboding leash,
Strung 'round the neck,
Of a clawing, and gnashing, great, and daunting black beast.

This beast-with its paws-
Gnashes, and gnaws,
At the feet of men too blind to see,
That the wars that they fight,
Reap, naught but blight,
To a world, in which it already be.

And its paws-stretching from shore, to shore-
Cause the skulls of these dull men to bleed,
And bleed, they do,
For now they lie (imbued) ,
Beneath the broken stones,
Of a blood-red sea.