Counter-Clockwise

The crooked army, it cannot

harm me in its slanted state,

its fate to march forever

like a game so clever

and twisted.

The battlefield misted,

covered with crystal capped flowers,

each cowers.

Above towers gray bulks,

great hulks that crush

the brush flat again and

again they follow the loops,

always crawl slow left

step by left step, bereft

and left grieving,

they never stop heaving

their loads.

Reviews

[Shaquana Adams]

I really like this. The only thing I would change is the second stanza. Something about the words misted and flowers throws me off. Other than that, it's awesome. Thanks for sharing. :)

[Benjamin]

That's really helpful, I hear the awkwardness in those two lines.
Thanks!