Age's bloodiest showdown looms,
Or such it seems by its lurid form;
Spirit's sharpest arrows must fly
Swifter than is their agile-witted norm.
Now Armageddon's most savage sword
Cruelest aim of softest landings takes,
Though target's dexterous fightback
Its most foolproof arsenals stakes.
Thus unfolds time's deadliest flare
Under high heaven's beneficences;
Watching on with an eye dimly fair,
Umpiring blows with arcane mien.
And though its yet baffling to tell
What dismal odds in virtue's favor stand,
Eons of war-waging jurisprudence repel
Smiling wins for Gaol's tempestuous fates.
Looking for the formal definition, structure, and history of this poetry form? Visit the Poetry Dictionary entry below. Then return to explore how PoetrySoup members bring the form to life through their own poems.