SF ( / )

Escaping Reality

Saturday, I slowly awaken to
The sounds of birds singing.
I roll out bed and make my to
My chest to start my equipping.

I run out of my house to receive my
Assignment, trembling with excitement at
What I could possibly receive,
But my heart soon drops when I see that.

I accept the job and I’m off to the forest,
Stocking up on supplies and checking my
Armor. Stepping out into the clearing, I look around,
Hoping to avoid too much interference from the enemy.

Running from area to area, my quarry eludes me,
While I start to give up hope, running low on time.
And as I start to abandon, a flash of silver, a beat of wings.
Crouching behind a tree I hope he doesn’t see.

The great wyvern lands, scanning his domain.
I slowly draw blade, made from his cousin.
Leaping for his head, I cut short his roar,
Saving me time, and a lot of pain.

Attack a few times, roll away, that is
My strategy for a forthcoming victory.
Dodging his charges and flaming breath,
I stay alive with narrow escapes and thumb dexterity.

He takes to the sky, hovering over me with
Heavy wing beats. I wait for his attack,
Trying to stay in his shadow, away from
His vision. He descends upon me, shining silver and black.


I take a flying leap, narrowly missing his clutches,
Hitting the ground and rolling to my feet.
He comes back to earth and turns to face me, and I
Gladly greet his face with steel.

Then the expected happens, a sudden roar.
With every breath a plume of smoke, He has hit
His flash point, igniting his anger.
I sheath my sword, turn tail, and book it.

Hiding in another area, I heal my wounds
And sharpen my weapon, waiting for that small
Glint in the distance. In my anticipation I set
A trap and lay some bombs, waiting for it all.

That flash of silver, it tells it all, now
Time to end the battle, he slowly lands, I stand
With the trap between him and me. He charges with rage
And falls into the ground, flailing and trying to escape the land.

With the detonation of the charge, it breaks his carapace.
Weakened and finally free, he limps away and tries to flee,
But I close his escape with a slash to the leg, he
Falls to the ground, leaving me with opportunity.

I move in, preparing to deliver the final blow,
Ready to give chase if he manages to escape.
I know that if he gets up he will head to his nest
And try to heal, but it won’t be enough to reverse his state.

He manages to rise, but only long enough to fall
For the final time, he enters his death throes
And finally falls still. The king of the wyverns has been slain,
With time to spare, I am left the ravaged hero.

I carve my trophy, waiting for the quest to end.
I receive my reward, cash and some hide.
Then I receive the prompt to save my game,
And soon as it does, I return to the village with pride.

Now I hit the switch, cutting the power.
I decide to save the next quest for tomorrow.
I have to return to my own life anyway.

Oh well.

User Rating: 5 / 5 ( 0 votes ) 2

Other poems of FITTS (9)

Comments (2)

Interesting. It's nice to escape in writing and imagination. ~Autumn~
Haha funn: D probably nice to escape sometimes, not in the form of drugs of coarse: P that's basically what i do: (