Civilization Prose in Alore | World Anvil


(Legacy Content)


A day of rain, thus miserable and dreary,

But a day regardless, not lain and weary.

For old ventures out to grant and feed,

What those behind could not and need,

And leave, in wake, one's query.


The catch is good, a mountain lay,

Of sustaining bulk, of any day.

Yet more is needed, to build - empower,

Explosive might, at any hour,

Four legs hold fright at bay.


Hold here, not out and find,

For something reaches in and mind.

A quarry of metal most clamorous and strange,

Leads out mighty power towards the range,

Black wood then snares and binds.


The hunters fall upon the night,

Baited and snared beyond this might.

Drake hide is pierced by blows and blades,

Explosions useless 'gainst most vile of maids,

Thus marks Civilization's blight.


Author's Notes

This is my entry for prompts three and five of Inktober 2019: "Bait" and "Build" - though to be honest one of those themes is far more obvious than the other.

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