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Poem - My Father's Ring

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On the thirthieth day of National Poetry Month, I present a poem about battle and fighting for a cause. The specific culture doesn't have a lot of details in my world yet, but The Hound of Illustir[1] will probably be one of the first (and my world's version of Old Yeller). It will be interesting because I only have a few notes so far and a number of Almanac[2] entries.

=> 1: https://fedran.com/hound-of-illustir/ | 2: https://fedran.com/almanac/

My Father's Ring

My father's ring
Worn in the Battle of Takair
He died a week later
Now I wear it to my own battle.

My father's father's ring
Cut from his finger in disgrace
His betrayal still hurts
Now I wear it to remind me to charge.

My father's father's father's ring
Forged when we still had a home
Shapes of irons he dug up
Now I wear it to survive.

My father's father's father's father's ring
Given to us by a foreigner
A payment for his youngest daughter
Now I wear it to save her children.

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=> Writing

Tags:

=> Fedran | National Poetry Month | The Hound of Illustir

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