Giants and the Arena

A poem I wrote in a creative writing class in college about the closest thing to a recurring dream that I've had.

he awakes on the sand of My battlefield

disoriented much but he knows he’s been here

his Opponents await on the other side of the ring

They’ve been waiting for years for this boy to return

the boy is a man now braver and wiser

and stands without fear unlike he did before

 

for years subconsciously he’s feared My structure

the shrieking Crowd along My exterior

and the large colorless Demons from his dreams

it seems there is no moisture in the air

nothing to Smell; nothing to Taste

as one overzealous Giant begins to charge

 

years past the child would have run on My sandy belly

but now he stands firm seeking a weapon in close proximity

a bloodstained Sword and Axe lay a few feet from him

and with great intent he seizes the iron Aides

he remembered the Giants from his nightmares

“they seemed larger then” he thought as the eager one fell

 

each of the giants fell harder than the one before

only the color of crimson Blood lay on the floor

this man had come back to settle a score

the Arena in His mind that i am no more

He returns to His world asleep in His bed

Knowing the giants will never wake from the dead

Author's Note

Capitalization is on purpose!

Reviews

[Sarah]

Wow. This was really really good. i wish i could write like that lol. amazing job :)