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Late night wtf?
11 years ago
General
So on this field, I raised my flag,
Calling for any who I could have.
Their blades, their arrows, their blind hearts,
All needed with resolve that won't break apart.
Upon this land, soon to be broken,
Blood shed, stone over turned, a cemetery awoken.
Looking out to those I'd fight,
Oblivious to this desperate sleight.
Aggression the resolve, revenge for illusory expectations.
The path is clear, unlike my expectations.
But I look back to my army,
And feel my heart cringe.
I asked for sacrifices who were without direction,
But saw only those that I felt affection,
My loves, my friends, and ones I hold most dear,
They're looking out, without an ounce of fear.
They'd die today, on this foolish errand,
My heart, once pure, now so barren.
I asked for death, but not for them,
Only for those whom my rage doth stem.
But it's too late, the air is charged,
Desperate pleas drowned out by the large.
"Take their heads, and break their bones!
May they never see the pain he has shown!"
The line is drawn, and the soldiers have crossed,
My cause was so fake, and now it is a loss.
Blood and dirt are as one,
A fast as the battle had begun.
There was only my men and the vile,
Men who's veins ran with bile,
Yet look upon the faces down here,
And listen, for you will hear no cheer.
A cause without truth, reason most blind,
It took everything, and left me behind.
These pieces are wrought with my sins,
Too many to know where to begin,
There's nothing left to fight for,
If it always ends in this chore.
Destruction and self-degradation,
Some little punk who would ignore his station,
Clamor and cry, demand but not return,
Pity lacking anything stern,
Wash away this world and all it gave,
I am a fool, a pauper, no one to call brave.
With this hand and this sword, named havoc and lie,
Just put them together, and someone will die.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
I've been thinking a lot on how I feel about certain people. About how I don't understand what I have with them. What kind of relationship I have, or what it means to have it. I know people who never talk to me, other than when I meet them at a con. Then, it seems like seeing an old friend, and plays out as such. It feels so shallow though. Then there are those who show, what I consider, affection towards me, but what we have is anything but. When I ask, they won't or don't answer me. They evade it. Again and again, I wonder to myself "What if I just bring it out into the open? Make it public. Get other voices involved."
This poem reflects what I know would happen if I did that. Just because I don't understand what I have doesn't mean I should sacrifice it. Maybe everyone is waiting for me to mature enough to truly get what they see in all of this. Maybe I'm just hoping for more too soon. Or maybe I am right, and it's all a lie. But I don't know. And I risk a lot in forcing anything. I have patience, and I suppose this is now the time to exercise it, rather than paranoia.
Calling for any who I could have.
Their blades, their arrows, their blind hearts,
All needed with resolve that won't break apart.
Upon this land, soon to be broken,
Blood shed, stone over turned, a cemetery awoken.
Looking out to those I'd fight,
Oblivious to this desperate sleight.
Aggression the resolve, revenge for illusory expectations.
The path is clear, unlike my expectations.
But I look back to my army,
And feel my heart cringe.
I asked for sacrifices who were without direction,
But saw only those that I felt affection,
My loves, my friends, and ones I hold most dear,
They're looking out, without an ounce of fear.
They'd die today, on this foolish errand,
My heart, once pure, now so barren.
I asked for death, but not for them,
Only for those whom my rage doth stem.
But it's too late, the air is charged,
Desperate pleas drowned out by the large.
"Take their heads, and break their bones!
May they never see the pain he has shown!"
The line is drawn, and the soldiers have crossed,
My cause was so fake, and now it is a loss.
Blood and dirt are as one,
A fast as the battle had begun.
There was only my men and the vile,
Men who's veins ran with bile,
Yet look upon the faces down here,
And listen, for you will hear no cheer.
A cause without truth, reason most blind,
It took everything, and left me behind.
These pieces are wrought with my sins,
Too many to know where to begin,
There's nothing left to fight for,
If it always ends in this chore.
Destruction and self-degradation,
Some little punk who would ignore his station,
Clamor and cry, demand but not return,
Pity lacking anything stern,
Wash away this world and all it gave,
I am a fool, a pauper, no one to call brave.
With this hand and this sword, named havoc and lie,
Just put them together, and someone will die.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
I've been thinking a lot on how I feel about certain people. About how I don't understand what I have with them. What kind of relationship I have, or what it means to have it. I know people who never talk to me, other than when I meet them at a con. Then, it seems like seeing an old friend, and plays out as such. It feels so shallow though. Then there are those who show, what I consider, affection towards me, but what we have is anything but. When I ask, they won't or don't answer me. They evade it. Again and again, I wonder to myself "What if I just bring it out into the open? Make it public. Get other voices involved."
This poem reflects what I know would happen if I did that. Just because I don't understand what I have doesn't mean I should sacrifice it. Maybe everyone is waiting for me to mature enough to truly get what they see in all of this. Maybe I'm just hoping for more too soon. Or maybe I am right, and it's all a lie. But I don't know. And I risk a lot in forcing anything. I have patience, and I suppose this is now the time to exercise it, rather than paranoia.
