Note: This is a camp song (the sheet music for which is posted here) meant to be sung by soldiers, with each return of the refrain increasing in length. I’ve killed many men, sir, I’ve killed many men, I’ve thrown
Note: Last edited 8/3/20. Richard leaned against a rock, chest working, cold air roughing up his throat. Darn spring mornings- beautiful, sure, but the chill was no fun when all you wanted to do was lie down and start breathing
Note: A fantasy poem about the Whispering Mountains lasted edited 11/5/19. Poem includes a mention of a character who remains in the background of my stories, albeit under a different name. Heroes with songless tongues, hear my cry, trumpet my
Note: Last edited 2/3/18. A fantasy poem about a bit of my unifying world, set in its far past. Darkness fills this land once bright, And light escapes mortal sight. Man wanders through desert long. This land knows not right