Veridically Poems

Riders Beneath the Dying Wheel

Written: August 27, 2025, for contest Sponsored by: Robert James Liguori

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They showed without trumpets,  
but with teeth—  
Four shadows galloping through 
the marrow of time.  
One wore famine such as a crown,  
another cloaked in fire’s deceit.  
The third preached war 
in the brother’s tongue,  
and the fourth laughed  
as the stars forgot their names.  

The wheel spun—  
not to teach,  
but to tremble, 
Dharma cracked beneath the weight  
of poisoned promises  
We raised shrines from
the threads of logic, 
We offered them our views 
and named it veridically raw.  

Yet in some distant spot,  
A silver surfer glides through 
the endless expanse 
carrying no blade, 
Just a memory— a soft whisper 
of who we once were, 
Here the shadows fell  
laid claim to our light.