The Crocodile Slayer
He came with a grin and a battered old case
mud on his boots and lines on his face
The locals all whispered behind their hands
he’s the one who fights where no man stands
He drank his tea with a sideways stare
watched the river like something was there
Said nothing much, just nodded once
but silence spoke like a sharpened punch
At dusk he walked to the water’s bend
no crowd, no cheer, no need to pretend
He waited still as the wind held back
and the dark mouth rose from the river’s black
No hero’s shout, no glory cry
just a man who looked a beast in the eye
He moved like he’d done it a hundred times
blade to scale, through muck and crimes
The beast sank low, the ripples red
he lit a smoke and scratched his head
No speech, no tale, no grand parade
just boots on stone and a shadow that stayed
They say he’s gone but I saw the track
muddy and deep with something back
A myth to some, a truth to few
The crocodile slayer, just passing through
About the Creator
Marie381Uk
I've been writing poetry since the age of fourteen. With pen in hand, I wander through realms unseen. The pen holds power; ink reveals hidden thoughts. A poet may speak truth or weave a tale. You decide. Let pen and ink capture your mind❤️
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Comments (1)
good creator