Sunday, December 13, 2009

WAR CRY

More jobless days.. brings out the mood of poetry in me.. Time to wax eloquence or at least try,


The warrior stands his ground

The thoughts in his mind abound

What makes him fight, makes him kill

He has no answers, it's all a drill

He looks to the heavens, dawn skies crimson red

Not in prayer, but a smirk that mocks the gods

The battlefield soil red soaked in yesterday's blood

The dust rises as the wind blows across the armies

Seems to muddle his spirit, raises many doubts

What's right, what's wrong

He looks into his soul

But its a gaping hole

His enemies are many, He takes out his sword

It is the keeper of their destinies

He raises high his sword, his men to see

The blade flashes, blinding his enemies and cold steel

The last thing they will all feel

He kisses the blade, its a slayer

Slain by it, You will get no prayer

He lets out a scream, ready, his men follow

Knows victory is on his side

Alas! he's dead inside.

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