bravado (Remove filter)
The Quiet Soldier
The Quiet Soldier
Why am I fighting these foes of mine?
(I know it's a soldier's fate)
to shoot my gun and die – yes, me as well as him,
when I see the blood on his cape
and his dead eyes shine;
by then it's too late for me and him alike -
but to the battle I return
with rifle and defiance primed
and hoards of bravado to turn and strike
when the muzzle-blasts out...
Monday 13th November 2017 5:09 am
Recent Comments
Tom Doolan on Poetry Is Pain
1 hour ago
David RL Moore on Too late too late
17 hours ago
Rolph David on Love The Light, Embrace The Rain
18 hours ago
Uilleam Ó Ceallaigh on The roads taken
21 hours ago
Red Brick Keshner on still, the Earth breathes
21 hours ago
Marnanel Thurman on The roads taken
21 hours ago
Red Brick Keshner on where shadows do not drown
22 hours ago
Uilleam Ó Ceallaigh on The Empty Streets of Ego’s March
23 hours ago
Larisa Rzhepishevska on The Policemen Arrest The Men.
23 hours ago
Ray Miller on The Empty Streets of Ego’s March
23 hours ago