The Fires of Revolution

Hungover Poetry - Entry 2

Written the morning after the summer soltice

Scribbled on the second page of a small, poorly bound pocket journal.

Galtan Gals last night were churning,
Gathered close for Desna’s feast.
Starsong’s light saw them gathered,
Drinking, singing without cease.

A Galtan Gal last night was burning,
Lashed and labeled as a beast.
Starsong’s light saw her writhing,
And watched until she had deceased.

Comments

Emptus Ghandi

I'm sorry, but we no longer support this web browser. Please upgrade your browser or install Chrome or Firefox to enjoy the full functionality of this site.