Poem - Leader Of The Expedition

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A response to a challenge set by @Jessicalynnt Dauntless, thoughtless, reckless, gormless, The self-appointed hero leads the dregs Of his expedition through the damp, Dank, fetid swamps, seeking fame and fortune Defiant of their mutinous murmuring dissent. He plays dice with destiny They cast lots for who will kill him If El Dorado is not found Within the hour ... No, forget fabled golden cities, Dry, danger-free ground They don’t sink into, Warm dry sheets rather than rats Mosquitos and alligator bites Will do, but the conquering conquistador Strides on, fanatical to the end The dagger rises, ready to descend A cry rings out in the dusk ‘Come home now boys’ They pause the game And go to their mothers, Just two levels short of victory. Arthur Chappell