The Gauntlet

Either side, the dragon’s hoard displayed,

A tiny line between, the refuse trench,

To walk with broken feet the path, to wade

Through junk. For, disallowed a scrap to clench

Of smallest crumbs of bread. Dog’s stomach quenched

To eat his meal and bury bone of beast,

While men, all calibers, in gold be drenched

And I from whip continue stumbling east

With eyes of mocking scorn on rotting path deceased.

Advertisements

Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in:

WordPress.com Logo

You are commenting using your WordPress.com account. Log Out / Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out / Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out / Change )

Google+ photo

You are commenting using your Google+ account. Log Out / Change )

Connecting to %s