Post by mudmask on Jan 18, 2009 17:24:03 GMT -5
I just wrote up this poem because I was bored, so I wanted to see if anyone liked it and I should keep going. This isn't my best work by the way! I'm writing a poem to the rhythm of one you might know, 'The Highwayman'. If you haven't seen or heard of it, go to YouTube and type in 'The Highwayman Sims Version'. Anyways, tell me what you think. This is one of my least graphic poems. I usually try to write more happier ones than my latest, but they always turn out with a character dying. Sad isn't it? By the way, these are all © to Mudmask of Significance!
If Life was a Rosebush...
If life was a rosebush,
without any thorns.
If life was a bull,
without any horns.
If life was a garden,
without any weeds.
If life were a symphony,
without broken reeds.
If life was a rainbow,
without all the rain.
If life was a hospital,
without all the pain.
If life was a lumberyard,
without every dying tree.
If the world was a place,
with just you and me.
Here is the poem I am currently working on, maybe a bit more...eh.....depressing?
The Untitled Soldier
Well the soldiers stood on the hillside,
Facing the torrent of the gale,
Their skin, soaked to the bone,
while it beat down snow and hail.
And they squinted to look for the path,
and stumbled blindly ahead.,
trying to keep pace with the marching… the marching… the marching…
trying to keep pace with the marching… soldiers through the storm.
Collapsing into a heap,
most half dead from the cold,
cringed in fear of the captain,
and were quick to do exactly as told.
Yet some knew they wouldn’t make it,
to see the coming dawn,
so they closed their eyes and whispered… whispered… whispered…
So they closed their eyes and whispered… for the others to move on.
Well the fire wouldn’t light,
yet some of the weary clumped together,
looking unto the sky,
and begging God for decent weather.
But the clouds beat on forever… forever… forever…
Yes the clouds beat on forever, or to them so it seemed.
The captain collapsed on his knees,
his face a ghastly pale,
written there was a clear expression,
how had the mighty one lost to this gale?
But his last words were quite clear,
a curse unto his queen,
“I’ve served for her highness too long… too long… too long…
I’ve served for her highness too long, and we march to death for her.”
Now a young fellow in the back,
ripped off his helmet without fear,
and rolls of brown hair fell from her scalp,
and she ran her captain through with a spear.
The brave girl crumpled to the ground,
her eyes stained red from the tears,
And she cried to the moon above her… above her… above her…
And she cried to the moon above her, “Thy fools! You think it is easy, to be a woman with such great fear?”
-not finished-