Maketu #1

I've been wanting to write a poem about a historical event for a while. I've been poking around in New Zealand's archives for something interesting. I found a story about Wiremu Kingi Maketu, the first person in New Zealand to receive the death penalty. In this one I attempted some fairly typical - even unadventurous - rhyming schemes. There is more information here. 

Maketu #1

He rode his pride into his fall,

with a skull split wide at angers call.

The Mrs, the young, then caught his slew,

the darkness rode with Maketu.

A chief's loins too bore this death,

Miss Brind’s body charred and renteth.

Five were dead, bodies midden,

sanctuary found in village hidden.

Tribal ties now thrown adrift

Maketu was offered to mend the rift

His body dropped in public view.

His body shook; his final move.

His caustic pride now exercised,

but beyond his torment the question rises.

What deeds brought such darkness violent?

The six now sleep with dreams so silent.