old anvil
A noble child, Ezio was his name,
Florence’s hope, Florence’s flame.
His family, slaughtered, fate whispered.
A creed, the Hashashin they were called,
Servants of light, day and night.
Ezio, a majestic bird of prey,
Auditore, the judge.
Gods sent prophet, sent to eliminate the filth,
The filth that dared do his job for him.
Requiescat In Pace.
ashen silo
You poem seems fine to me. did you say it does not work for you? What does not work?
old anvil
im used to strict rhymes schemes and whatnot
this doesnt really follow one
so it feels chunky
ashen silo
would you prefer it was written following a strict rhyme scheme?
old anvil
probably yea
ashen silo
What do you have in mind?
old anvil
though i wanted to try soemthing different