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The prophecy

The prophecy

Thunder echoes across the valley floor
Dark clouds slowly build
A migration of buffalo, a thousand or more
What power they wield
Crossing windswept plains far and wide
Rain like blood spills
Slaughtered not for meat but for their hide
Tears, on crimson fields
I remember the day, when the buffalo died
A prophecy seen, fulfilled
We stood, we watched, for them, we cried


Form #21

A Poem within a Poem is where the reader reads
every other line to revel
'A Poem within a Poem'
Usually one compliments the other,
but not a must

By crazy_horse

© 2017 crazy_horse (All rights reserved)


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This Poem is part of a Challenge: - Form Poetry is Fun! 21 (challenge has been closed)

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