Borne Poem by Daegal
Borne
Sitting in a field of vivid, untamed
Flowers, deeply tinted in the sunlight,
Is a lonely soldier, clad in dirty
Warrior’s garb. Blood-stained blade beside him,
He draws in the fresh scent of wild pollen.
Strange, how something so beautiful can bloom
From the outcome of such a vicious War.
End.
Monday, May 29, 2006
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4/24/2024 2:52:54 AM # 1.0.0.1119
Lovely contrasts here Daegal. The juxtaposition of images make this a wonderfully visual poem with a resounding sentiment. Kind regards, Justine