The Soldiers Were

The weakening bright of day,
To reign the thorough frost,
Over top where the frozen roots
Thaw unto where they lay,
And their life was never lost,

Once tender fields and fruitful plains,
Now bed the trampled moss,
And bear the lust of men,
Whom dared to venture 'cross,
Beauty not without, but solemn lost within,

T'was his love for them, that made him bear the shame,
To desecrate the land,
Far from which they came,
Although by undesign, the nature was unhand,
And left without a doubt, the thoughtless contraband,

Footsteps on of foothills of backs pointed east,
Their tracks were dully noted,
And none to care the least,
But forward was the march,
Unknown of where they came, and little where they reach,

They breached with sunken hearts,
And left with heavy shoulders,
Each haunted in his dreams, and souls were torn apart,
For reasons not without, but undenying guilt had
Made those sleepless nights grow colder,

Their faces were grim, and left unshaven,
And cracked where their cheeks were dry,
But again wetted,
For each night sounded with their cry,
As they searched for the promised haven,

Prayers sent and ill-recieved,
To beg mercy for all the lives they took,
And comrades who fell in battles they fought in,
But the years were overlooked,
And their hopes were soon forgotten,

The helms that once shined,
For the first years in their campaign,
Now dull and marred with age,
And shield from all they slain,
The unrelented rage,

From dawn the wives awaited,
Eager for husbands unreturned,
And sons who were belated,
But none had ever came,
Breathing woe to the concern, the helplessly ill-fated,

The final hour seeped,
With table hands of fate,
A'las the soldiers weeped,
For those they'll never see,
Past enemies at the gate,

They scorn the face of death,
And drew their dying breath,
To lie there all alone,
With tears for broken promises,
And the memories of home.

This post was edited by Holland on Feb 1 2009 02:44pm

Here's one I wrote last year, on request for someone's assignment. The assignment was on mortgages and interests rates lol. I thought it was an odd topic but I gave it a go.

Interests and Mortgages



Inflation is the cause of it all,
Losing track of what you owe,
Paving a fast track to where you fall,
You get not what you require,
You lack all that you desire,

Mind made empty, stomach made bare,
Spend each penny if you dare,
Lift the top off your savings,
Borrow money and wait for the fall,
A second mortgage to pay for it all,

Each mortgage you take to ensure for the loan,
An arm and a leg skinned to the bone,
One for the home, two for the money,
Run, hide, then see,
There's no place left to flee,

Paycheck to paycheck,
Ready to pay back?
Learn that you still lack,
Money for the interest rates that they set,
Written in fine print not that you can forget,

It's not 13 percent alone,
But 13 percent for each payment,
Wake up and wonder where the rest of the day went,
Too late for prayers, no words left to speak,
Way past your limits, over your peek,

Prepare for the letter, prepare for the worst,
Read for the bad part, it always comes first,
Now there's no where left to run,
Nor a reason left to care,
Jump to the pits of hell or let the devil take you there.

Vera, Vera by the sea

Vera, Vera by the sea,
Where art thou?
Where are thee?
Hear my voice and come to me,

Even on the month of May,
Does the hour glass not tilt,
When the roots decay,
And the flowers wilt?

Does a bird not cry,
When it brakes it's wing,
And cannot fly,
To sound the sky with the songs it sings?

I cannot hear thy--
Nor even see thee,
Question not why,
But I often feel thee,

Vera, Vera by the sea,
Whisper softly in the night,
And watch the waves come rise then flee,
Ending not within the sight,

Come Summer breeze,
And Autumn's fall,
Relenting all,
To Winter freeze,

And so the seasons care to bring,
The garden of sincere,
That harvest fruits of everything,
Which happens in a year,

But left behind plight and oath,
That never would come true,
For you and I have both,
Carved our paths and became two,

Vera, Vera by the sea,
Just forget that you were once,
Linked with I, and I with thee,
Slay the thoughts of what we were,
And leave behind what could not be.

awesome poem! but that part's sad

this is really good...

lyrical but if u wrote for more than fun they could be more substantive

I know my shortcomings, don't think I don't. I can become better-- sure I can can be clever, knowledgable, and structured. But at what cost? An old retired lawyer who is now a professor once told me, "Be serious. Be serious in what you do or don't bother doing it at all, you're wasting your god damned time. And even if you squeeze enough years to live 'til a hundred, wasted time is still more than you can afford."

I take the old man's advice to heart-- I do. But there's one thing I refuse to be serious about, and that is creativity. I believe that anything forced to follow a certain standard becomes less of something creative, and more of something productive.

I've read good writing, and seen great literature; mine doesn't qualify. The fact is... the things I write are just cheap immitations of the images I see, and the words come from somewhere foreign to me; what I do is simply write down the words being fed to me from abroad. I'm not a writer, I'm a capturer of moments. These stingy moments come in doses, some small, others large.

It took me too long to realize my memory isn't great enough to hold all these moments, and for the most part I've lost the better part of many words. I don't write these pieces for accolades, I'm just trying to keep them from escaping my memory by writing them into yours.

Whoa these are awesome bro