A Poetic Account of the First Battle of Hoover Dam

  • A Poetic Account of the First Battle of Hoover Dam

     

    Dust swirls,

    men charge,

    rifles fire at floods

    of spear and targe.

     

    Cries, wails,

    come far

    and near,

    and the men who wail,

    wail in fear.

     

    Blood splatters,

    paints the sand,

    red canyons take on a new meaning.

     

    Death prevails,

    o’er profligate,

    o’er other-side-of-the-river.

    O’er out-of-luck-er,

    o’er jackpot winner.

     

    The men in red make one

    final charge,

    but when rifle fights spear,

    rifle pierce targe.

Comments

2 Comments
  • Lyall
    Lyall   ·  March 6, 2016
    I think it is, wow!
  • Paws
    Paws   ·  March 6, 2016
    Is this the first bit of Fallout poetry here? Excellent! Keep it coming