E.W. Mayo

(Wrexham, Wales, UK)

The Old Warrior - Poem by E.W. Mayo

My sword is red, but not with blood,
But from rust from lying in mud.
The blade is blunt, though not with use,
But from idleness and past abuse.
Its temper is quieted, not of exhaustion
But by boredom and lack of caution.
Its hilt is loose though not with race.
But simply because of its old age.
It does not hang there with great pride
But just lies there thrown aside.
Its many deeds once valiant glory
Now remain but just a story
To my blade no life was lent
And I live on to but to repent.

Comments about The Old Warrior by E.W. Mayo

There is no comment submitted by members..

Read this poem in other languages

This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.

I would like to translate this poem »

word flags

What do you think this poem is about?

Read poems about / on: pride, red, life

Poem Submitted: Thursday, January 2, 2003

Famous Poems

  1. Still I Rise
    Maya Angelou
  2. The Road Not Taken
    Robert Frost
  3. If You Forget Me
    Pablo Neruda
  4. Dreams
    Langston Hughes
  5. Annabel Lee
    Edgar Allan Poe
  6. Stopping By Woods On A Snowy Evening
    Robert Frost
  7. If
    Rudyard Kipling
  8. Do Not Stand At My Grave And Weep
    Mary Elizabeth Frye
  9. I Do Not Love You Except Because I Love You
    Pablo Neruda
  10. Television
    Roald Dahl
[Report Error]