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Date Posted: 14:04:58 10/11/03 Sat
Author: Brockrose
Subject: Russa

Without one word,
She fell in line,
Brought forth the rod
Thought not to shine

She kept up the pace,
Until the end,
Alongside the hares,
And a younger friend.

To end the ones
That killed for fun
She fought the good fight
And missed only one

Losing the stick
She revered as gold
Lost to this lifetime,
Empy and cold

But moved on to meadows
Where larks sing eternal
And to those left behind,
Stayed with them internal

They grieved for the loss
Of this warrior true,
But forever she stayed
In their hearts from the blue

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