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Dark Poetry #2
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The Battlefield
| Dark Poetry #2 |
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The Battlefield |
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sgreybe Member
since 2000-04-28
Posts 209London, UK |
THE BATTLEFIELD Battles fought, wars raged All the time hearts caged Friendly faces nowhere seen Seems that's where I've always been Pin-prick pain of one harsh word More damage does than limbs disturbed Though the pain seems not quite real Inner scars that never heal When one loves is love not true How, then, can I help love you? Your vow to never let the friendship end From one to another dearly loved friend I owe so much to you, you see For when you loved you set me free Now your heart towards me revealed I lie, struck down, on this battlefield You pull it out, then wipe its blade on the grass. |
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| © Copyright 2000 Sylvia Greybe - All Rights Reserved | |||
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Walter Poe Senior Member
since 1999-10-13
Posts 787 |
life is the battlefield we all collide tooth and nail we fight day to night blood is spilt on sacred soil we all are doomed to fall Vanguard of the New Movement Behind his polished cedar desk, surrounded by his phones, Sits Blazer Dyke(The yachting type), The vanguard of the clones. The Archetype, The number one,The vanguard of the clones. Crossing over busy street, where noisy traffic drones, Walks Blazer Dyke (without a bike), The vanguard of the clones. The autocrat, The ectomorph, The vanguard of the clones. He strides across the cobbled yard, Where pawn shops offer loans, That Blazer Dyke (Whom i dislike), The vanguard of the clones. The cannibal, The parasite, The vanguard of the clones. He passes through the wicket gate, To churhyards full of bones, That Blazer Dyke (on a midnight hike), The vanguard of the clones. The necrophile, The narcissist, The coprophage, The sybarite, The telepath, The Anti-Christ, The vanguard of the clones. Robert Rankin (The Dance of the Voodoo Handbag) |
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SpitFire Member Elite
since 2000-04-19
Posts 2396 |
~Hey,...this makes me think of that song...uuummm,..Love is a Battlefield...that' s the only part I know hehe...but your poem has me singing that. This is truly a great poem,...I like the title and the concept. This here part is so true....Pin-prick pain of one harsh word. More damage does than limbs disturbed.....oooh,...so true. Thank you for sharing. *Peace. |
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Jeremiah Johnson Senior Member
since 2000-06-08
Posts 1223Brooksville, Fl, U.S |
i love this piece of your work. but this is my first read of you. so post some more of your work here and keep it up. I'm the lord, I'm the havoc, I'm the soul |
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Joel the wolf Senior Member
since 2000-04-06
Posts 1333Angels Camp |
yes life is a battle field, but no weapon hurts as much as a slice from a loved one, it can take your heart out of your body and you can still live with what's left, not much of a life. god this one hurts. Joel I howl a mournful song, that echos within my chambered heart, for all to read? nay for all to feel. |
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