St. Antoine
By Ankoku (a/n: nifty poem I thought up after reading a tale of two cities.tell me what you think? R/r)
Five nobles walk by, Through the houses they shy. Cold, dirt, sickness, ignorance & longing. The heavy cloud is not drawing, TO a happier time There is crime, In the streets. The people you meet. They flock to a tiny bit of happiness like a moth to light. Many are struggling to keep up the fight. Once again they snake through the alleys, The death tolls tally, The strike of the bell, Ten, Eleven, Twelve. Only time will tell, Theses people are in a living hell. A child shivering in the cold, Their faces showing the grow old. Tatters of clothing on a pregnant lady, Fearing more and more for her baby's safety. Blood is the writing on the wall, The peasants' will answer this battle-word's call.
By Ankoku (a/n: nifty poem I thought up after reading a tale of two cities.tell me what you think? R/r)
Five nobles walk by, Through the houses they shy. Cold, dirt, sickness, ignorance & longing. The heavy cloud is not drawing, TO a happier time There is crime, In the streets. The people you meet. They flock to a tiny bit of happiness like a moth to light. Many are struggling to keep up the fight. Once again they snake through the alleys, The death tolls tally, The strike of the bell, Ten, Eleven, Twelve. Only time will tell, Theses people are in a living hell. A child shivering in the cold, Their faces showing the grow old. Tatters of clothing on a pregnant lady, Fearing more and more for her baby's safety. Blood is the writing on the wall, The peasants' will answer this battle-word's call.