The sentinel

The immemorial mountain

Now dwarfed to a plateau

Standing in the white light of the moon

Listening to the rustling song of the breeze

Retelling the high stories of epic battles

With the relentless aqueous foe.

For eons its absence had left it

Alone with only the immaterial current as its scout.

Like a sentinel it was still watching and guarding

The rim of the continent

Waiting for the ultimate wave to engulf all

Making sure it shall not pass.

Long are gone the internal fires

Blocked are their ash and brimstone spewing chimneys.

From time to time in order to shake

A cramping it lets a shudder run up its spine.

It is a lonely calling up there

On the edge of the land mass.

It knows that somewhere else

Destructive battles are still led

By new rising colossus

Against the vast tireless enemy.

Peace is never ever complete

That is why it is still aware

Despite the titanic timeless tiredness of boredom.

©L. Bailliet

20/2/2012