This warrior was very bold,
but his story, is still untold.
He now lies in the bottom of a grave,
to his lord he was the slave.
He had a very rugged life,
never got to know his wife.
For all his hard work, his yield,
a knife, a sword and a shield.
The scars and cuts,
the blood and guts.
Was not enough,
His life it took.
Now he was dead,
at a very young age.
So his story stops,
not another page.
At the side of his grave,
his young wife looks down.
Wonders what it was all for?
Some glory and a shinny crown.
The young lady walks away,
showing her dislike and dismay.
Hoping it will all end, this sorrow,
maybe not today but tomorrow.
nice...dave...well written but i miss the rolex watches! ! ! ! ...lol...love...nalini
Blimey Dave, you're really branching out. This is wonderful (but not for the wife ofcourse) . Love, Fran the Fan xx
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
Nice poem Dave...you write about such a wide range of topics...you are truly amazing! Hugs, Dee