This is a different one. It lacks the usually indispensable rhythm and rhyme, which are now replaced by a descriptive narration. Not much else to say, as the code is not too strong in the symbolic department.

Have a go.


Frail bones crack beneath the soles of my boot,
Crumbling to naught but ash
And dust.
Once proud and valiant soldiers of honour
And virtue –
Reduced to a feast for maggots,
Crows and vultures.
The will of cowards
Brought forth thundering war.
The roars of many brethren and foes still echo through the pungent cloud
That surrounds each rotten blade of grass on the rusted field.
The clashing of swords,
The deafening terrible omen of imminent man-made death,
Lingers under my skin,
Gnawing at the marrow of my bones.
The land, now sated with blood, knows peace once more.
Though the war is gone, I remain enthralled in battle –
A battle I cannot hope to win.
It is no true pride to count all the lives one has unmade,
But this day,
One more will complete my collection.
The land knows peace once more,
So I shall learn to know it myself;
For all must know defeat one day.

This entry was posted in "Poems".

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