Edward Grey

Rookie (Iowa)

The Soldier - Poem by Edward Grey

The man just stood there
In the midst of the slain
His sword in his hand
His armor on his back

He just stood there
He did not move
He had nothing to lose
The battle was over
The victory had been won

But what had his vengeance gained him
What had he done
He had slain
His armies left and right
They had fought and died
Doing what he thought was right

These men of valor
Who had fought for his cause
Now lay dead and dying
Under the fading sun

Long before this day
His love had been slain
It had caused incredible agony and pain
She had been innocent
But at he whim of his masters will
She had died a horrible death
She had been killed

All through the years
He had to get back
He grew strong and powerful
Nothing did he lack
And yet all he wanted to do was get back

The time had came
He was now prepared
Now he ventured
And now he dared

Across meadow and plain
Through snow and through rain
They journeyed to where they would find
The one who had taken the love of his life
The time had come for battle and strife

He had come
His armies in tow
To show him what he was made of
To even the score
He had spared no expense
They were well prepared
Now and now alone they dared

They fought and the battle was great
They fought from sunrise until it was late
They fought over plain and hill
Thousands upon thousands were killed

The battle finished upon a small hill
There the knight stood
Weary and sad
All his men were gone
They were all dead
The battle was won
But to what avail
It could not bring her back
She was dead and gone

He could remember
That was all he had
Her beauty her grace
The love that she had
Her dark hair had shimmered and shined
Black as the night
Beautiful as the sky
She was slender and tall
To him the most beautiful of all
Her eyes were clear grey
Shining light and love on all who were seen
Casting a spell on all that was obcene

She died and was gone
But he could still see her
As she writhed in agony
Her eyes caught his
They looked for a while
The pain the loss
The agony and the shame
Until at last in the end
She was ripped in twain

The pain in her eyes he never forgot
The evil that had befallen her lot

Now here he stood
Where the battle had taken place
Where he and spilt the blood of his enemy
As he cowered in disgrace
His work here was done
His army was dead
His life was slipping away
But he still thought

Was it worth it
All the death and the pain
The wrong had been righted
But the cost was plain
She who had loved
And never despised
Who had cheered and never lied
Is this what she had wanted
All these men dead

As he died
His blood spilling from many wounds
His last words were
What have I done


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Poem Submitted: Tuesday, August 23, 2005



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