Miraqariftsky's Meandering Musings. Poetry, Portraits, and... more. Mayhaps.

[Miraqariftsky]

Hallo to the Playground. I hope y'all are doing well?

Might I take the liberty of posting some pieces here, and hope for your wonderful critique and appreciation?

First piece... lessee now... hmm... Pulling out one of my personal classics.

The Darksome King

He is the lord of the horde,

master of a massive hoard.
Many boar-bristles at his beck,

a hundred spits at his call.
Much spittle flecks

the fangs of the wolves at his knees.
Stormcrows, the shadows prowl,

beneath the pinion of the throne

At head of board he sits.
Wise, his craven thanes.
For dare they not the honour

of his rings’ dread hold.

Dark the countenance,
grim the frown.
Shadowed eyes like pits do gape---

deep the glare from greying orbs
Steepled fingers uphold

the slipping crown.
Bowed by sleepless stars

head slumps… breath rasps.
Gold pass’d to silver,

to iron black.
Ashen grey the crown.
And dust the robe

that bleeds but chaff!

Skull’s smile breaks not,

a sigh keens from winter’s heart.
Though on his cracked lips,
shines a smile,
The smile of a sword unsheathed.

[Lethologica]

I like the imagery and the structure of this piece.

"He is the lord of the horde,
master of a massive hoard."

Sounds weird when spoken. Perhaps a word other than 'master' that applies better to 'hoard' than it would to 'horde'?

"At head of board he sits."

'Board' is not particularly expressive here.

Mind the repetition of 'smile' in the last stanza.