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Aging Outlaw

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Yellow lights winked in the square
Snatches of song drifted from an open door
The outlaw pulled his cloak closer
As snow settled in his hair.

He considered his return home
The sheer cliff stripped bare by
Winter gales
Where he spent his years in outlawry
And there in icy solitude
When his heart eventually failed
Like a king, cast down through a family feud
He would follow the narrow, treacherous trail
Bold as a knight bearing the Holy Grail
Or a maiden walking to her doom
He would enter the familiar, shell lined cave
And prepare it to serve as a tomb.

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This article has 2 comments. Post your own!

Sophie Rose C. This work has been published in the Teen Ink monthly print magazine. said...
Jan. 14, 2012 at 5:31 am:
I really adore the first stanza - so subtle, and carefully made. Its lovely. Do you mind if I say that the bits about the holy grail and the maiden are cliche' s ? or did you do that purposefully? :)
Ayme. replied...
Feb. 5, 2012 at 1:35 am :
any feedback is welcome, because it helps a lot. thanks Sophie!
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