A vicious wind, to steal your breath,
The rain erodes old crumbling walls
That soldier’s climb, to reach the crest,
Return so bloodied, through mud they crawl
Rushing from the sickle’s point
Scorching comet, burn a fiery crimson night
The promise of a purple heart,
Course through it to my frozen lungs
Flare through me, out my grisly mask
Still shooting down this fate I’m flung
Accuse Red Devils; their guilt is master’d
From the ice-cold West with ire we’re haunted
Battalions march to mountainous frenzy,
Royalists imprudent, and quite blue
The downpour is a post-haste cleansing,
Hierarchy surrendered, signposts misconstrued.
A dystopian romance, its blossoming flawed,
Patience brings your just desserts, unjust reward
Softly walk the sleeping meadow
Pale sunlight creeps inside the mist.
It guides men from the heavy shadows
Ethereal, Oh, a precious gift.
A dainty unknown, relinquished just before dusk,
A whisper too late for my bronze-smattered rust.
Thursday, November 4, 2010