Stories we know | Teen Ink

Stories we know

January 13, 2014
By Coulperingcircus SILVER, Stamford, Connecticut
Coulperingcircus SILVER, Stamford, Connecticut
5 articles 0 photos 5 comments

I ride in strong
Horses hooves striking the ground
Rhythmic beat with each step that only a fearful heart could ever recognize
I feel gusts of wind passing through my already disheveled hair

In front of me is the beckoning glow of dim lanterns
Subtly illuminating my rather dark way
This, my mission, is not one smart men take on
In truth though I have never considered myself to be a smart man

Going into this I know others have fallen
Men with wives and children to think of
Better men then I
Yet the only difference is the man needed for this pursuit was just a man like me

Promises on entering this hell, was a legacy to each man
Songs to be sung of their praises
Memory of them to be everlasting
Their names being echoed for all time

I have no desires for such cravings
Preferably I, along with my name, go on forgotten
For in this world I’ve lived out my purpose
I protect, I defend, by any means I shall save them all

Nearing the town I push out such thoughts
I prepare myself; perhaps this time will be my last.
Reader, I wish not for death its self, but merely others to live on.
Closer, I am very near now

Crashing through the makeshift wooden gate
Silence fills the air
The bewildered stares of the people I’m here to defend
Know of nothing of that near to come

Time passes, colorless wind being the only noise heard
Shadowed by a hat my darkened eyes wait
Shaken and in awe, they’ve known men like me
I take out my feather

Another couplet of heartbeats goes pass
These people will live today, this I know
After another two purgatorial beats
I tell them “Call it Macaroni”

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