My Daughter's Blackout Poem

My daughter Erika decided she wanted to try this as well. This is her blackout poem. As of right now it has no title.

Drogo drove his stallion.

Bells in his braid rang as he rode.

It was dark.

He stopped besides a stream.

Drago stared at his face, empty of expression.

He sat there silently, like a river of darkness; so black, so thick.

The night air was chilly.