This poem, another of the war poems and, yet another, sonnet, is a particular favourite of mine. It was, I think, the second last poem to be written. the basis of this poem, since I always seem to delve into my poetry, is based upon one my most frequent loves - Msn. However, I'll need to explain a bit of background to it. The first line is from a long while back when a friend was trying to write some lyrics to a tune running through her head, and that was our thoughts. The third line, and the second of the two stimulus I used for this poem, is a Nightwish (they're a band, look them up) lyric, from the song, "Seven Days to the Wolves" which, my friend, Jonathan, is obsessed with (The band, not the song.) It was, at the time, his Msn name, and it lead to the creation of this poem. As an additional sidenote, before I shut up and let you read, the word terminus, part of the title of this poem is defined as: " The final point; the end." which I found, perfect in the context of this poem. Without Further ado, Terminus Unknown. Enjoy.
Here I am, standing at the end of days.
Watching the sun set on this weary life.
This, is where heroes and cowards part ways.
We are all helpless, as bloodshed is rife.
All are only flowers; we bloom then fade.
Slowly forgotten by those left behind
Life is no more than a game that's been played
And the pieces are no more than mankind.
Despite the concern that I should have felt
There's nothing but a sense of weary calm.
I will abide by the fate I was dealt.
We're just god's playthings; we're crushed in his palm.
This is my destiny - I won't defy.
No one will miss me - I'm ready to die.
No comments:
Post a Comment