Agatha Eliza Laposi


An Xviiith Century Battle

Poem by Agatha Eliza Laposi

These rusty swords dangle
back and forth
piercing my skin, bleeding
myself to death..



In this dream, I am chained
to this particular place
where the clamour of battle
makes me tear my own ears off
so I wouldn't hear
the thunder-like war drums
which are amplified by
the sound of rain
falling over the bodies..
In this concert of pain, I hear
the footsteps and hooves
of those trapped in the mud,
the splash of cold water
as they struggle to get out-
and those choked, weeping pipes,
the cannons making way
digging tunnels
into flesh and bones,
resting in a pool of blood
by the distorted remnants
scattered here and there like
the bunch of runes
released from a druid's hands..
and the echoing voices
that beg for help
as their lives are hanging
by a fragile thread.



My body is weary; a blurred vision
of disaster is projected
before my eye..the sky seems distant-
so are my lover's gentle hands, as
on a weak and trembling voice
the last goodbye is uttered
by a tomb upon which my name is marked,
and left some delicate, white flowers.

Topic(s) of this poem: battle, history, war

Form: Blank Verse


Comments about An Xviiith Century Battle by Agatha Eliza Laposi

  • Queeny GonaQueeny Gona (5/17/2017 11:08:00 PM)

    On reading this particular muse of yours, I was reminded of few pages of Anne Franck -The dairy of a young lady who described the second world war situation

    The situation is rampant even now!(Report)Reply

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  • Unnikrishnan E S (5/9/2017 9:22:00 PM)

    Hi Agatha,
    A very profound poem.

    Opens with

    These rusty swords dangle
    back and forth
    piercing my skin, bleeding
    myself to death..- bringing out the wild gory image of a battle.

    A long caravan of colorful images follows:

    ...the sound of rain...
    ...concert of pain...
    ....the splash of cold water...
    ....fragile thread....

    ...delicate, white flowers....

    Yes, in the middle of this battle, do I find a mild sensuousness, hidden behind the blood-red words? ?

    .... My body is weary; a blurred vision....
    my lover's gentle hands...
    ....the bunch of runes
    released from a druid's hands..

    The line between sex and was is so thin....

    beautifully done, carefully worded, fresh captivating images. Great! ! !

    A perfect 100+++(Report)Reply

    0 person liked.
    0 person did not like.
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Poem Submitted: Monday, May 8, 2017



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