Red Fallows poem

[liopleurodon]

Inspired by the descriptions of the Red Fallows in Llyod Alexander's book The High King (I highly recommend reading The Chronicles of Prydain

 

 

 

Red Fallows: by Chris Chaney (rs name Christofels)

 

 

 

There once was a land

 

So fruitful and green,

 

The most furtile earth

 

That anyone's seen.

 

Its corpse is still there

 

Now rotten and dead,

 

Its life forgotten,

 

Its fields long bled.

 

 

 

Red Fallows,

 

Where did you go?

 

You weren't to die

 

Until laden with snow.

 

Yet even then

 

Under death there was life

 

As grass blades shot up

 

Like the points of a knife

 

Red Fallows,

 

Where hast thou run?

 

Come back to me,

 

Come back to the sun.

 

 

 

There once was a time

 

When crops would grow fast,

 

But again it's a case

 

Of history past.

 

Farmer's would come and

 

Throw out their seed

 

And then reap a harvest

 

Thrice what they'd need.

 

 

 

There were battles

 

For that furtile land,

 

Wars burned the soil

 

And turned it to sand.

 

Then blood trickled down

 

In little red streams,

 

What's left of that land

 

Remains only in dreams.

 

 

 

Trampled to death my

 

Furtile Red Fallows,

 

Grasses and roots and life

 

Hangs now on the gallows.

 

Woefull Red Fallows

 

Now a dustball from Hell

 

Nothing could cure you,

 

Not even a well

 

Red Fallows,

 

Once teeming with life

 

Lies as dead as the soldiers

 

Who fell in the strife.

 

 

 

Then came the victor

 

To claim the ripe land,

 

Found his prize soiled

 

By his own hand.

 

Yes the great victor,

 

Who paid the most blood,

 

Won nothing at all

 

But a puddle of mud.

 

 

 

Red Fallows,

 

Where dost thou flee?

 

Art thou so blind?

 

Dost thou not see?

 

That many have come

 

To till thy field

 

Now nothing will grow

 

No crops will yeild.

 

Red Fallows,

 

Where hast thou fled?

 

Doth thou not see

 

That many have bled?

 

 

 

Thou foolish soldier

 

No reason in sight;

 

Thy just prize is here

 

Of famine and blight.

 

In thy wars thou burned me

 

Yes turned me to ash

 

My soils are ruined

 

In my surface a gash.

 

Soon I shall be healed,

 

Brought back to light;

 

The High King is comming,

 

Banner almost in sight.

[liopleurodon]

I don't really understand the forum so leoplurodon (my brother) lets me (rsn Christofels) use his forum