Knock...
Knock...
Knock...
I hear at the door, a knock.
Who would call on me, this time of night?
The door slowly opens,
small lantern in hand
To reveal a small package on my stoop.
Where have they gone?
I ask to myself.
This little gift,
Anonymous to be sure,
Was given on no foreseen pretenses.
Knock...
Knock...
Knock...
Again I hear the door's call.
Who again is here for a visit?
But nothing lies in wait for me,
At the open door.
Who knocks on my door?
This question I ask three more times,
Until the dawn rises.
Knock...
Knock...
Knock...
YOU ARE READING
The Battle
PoetryTwo sides, Stuck in an eternal dance, To fight, to win, to live, to lose, to die. A dance not for the faint of heart, But for the bold and courageous. Both going for the heart, To take it out, and be the first to spill blood. For an eternity has th...
