Heya everyone, Chris here with a few poems from my Creative Writing class that I think a few of you
may like.

Answer the Call
Light of Hope, Light of home.
Light of Faith, light of Hearth.
Light shining 'pon the Earth.
Light of power, light of honor.
Light on the pedal of a flower.
Bless my blade, bless my path.
Bless my strangth 'gainst evil's wrath.
Fight the dark, fight their hate.
Fight to protect my fate.
Protect the light, protect my home.
Fight for honor. Fight for Justice.
Fight for friends, fight for home.
Fight with courage never known.

Chivalry isn't Dead
I am the man who seeks adventure.
The man who still values skill with a blade.
I am the Knight, still beleiveing in Chivalry.
Iam the Paladin, protecting the weak.
But in this day of technology,
on where non one bothers to learn or act decent.
Treating one another so horribly, and worshipping gods of fashion.
There is no more adventure to seek.
Or man skilled with a sword,
No more Knights to fight for Justice.
Too many weak men to protect.
But still I fight to prove Chivalry isn't dead.

My love poem.
Even though I know you so well,
Even though we love each other.
I can say something that I know is true,
And you'll still blush.
And I love when your face flushes red.
And even when you say something stupid.
I still love it when your face lushes red.

Why do you call me an Artist?
I can't draw or paint.
I can't take a pen and draw a picture,
not how you see it.
I can take a pen and press it against the paper.
and let the ink form lines and words and
shape it until I have a picture.
One fore you to imagine,
one that is straight anf fresh.
None of that blurring imagery,
no useless symbolism,
No misleading words to lie to you and mean something else.

Here I write on this clean page
I ruin it's white purity.
It's disturbing to think I revel in dirtying it,
Once it was clean.
Not anymore, I have defiled it to write this.
This poem, a poem I don't even like.
Its just the thoughts in my head on paper.
Written down to empty myself,
but in this act I have ruined the paper's white purity.

Light's Army.
In the light, at the dawn.
Always my arm stays strong.
And brings justice to those whod o wrong.
To protect my fate, and the light.
Sometimes a man must fight.
To save other's lives and the weak.
Fighting to save the light.
Leading an army I stand tall.
Evil's forces crashing on our walls,
Blessed by light, and strong in skill.
I fight the army, not for glory or the kill.
But to save those I love.
And for the beauty of the world,
And for the love of one girl,
All this in the name of the Light.
For all of this do I fight.