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Valkyrie's Tears
| Open Poetry #48 |
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Valkyrie's Tears |
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Michael
Moderator
Member Rara Avis
since 1999-08-13
Posts 7666California 
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Valkyrie's Tears I. Battlefield I woke that morning, long ago... At war, though I wished it weren't so. Still, emotion's a funny thing And relished I, a freed sword's ring. The rules were set – no rules at all... The first to rise, the last to fall. The standards held, standards of truth – Those truths held by misguided youth. So swung I, wild, swung I mad. Giving to the clash all I had. As we lay target under siege, For sake of feudatory liege. Valkyries rushed to meet each mark – The battle raging on, through dark... The first I saw, what vision bade, For sweet Love falling from my blade. I don't believe in happenstance, Nor give much thought to errant chance... But in that darkness, something changed, And all feeling felt, well, estranged. Then, seeing specters of their dead, Many a valiant warrior fled. The tide was turning that bleak night... Unto my chance to set things right. So I, their leader, called to me, Through mists swirling uncertainty; The seven best – seven most true, To finish what we'd come to do. Battle formation in motion, Marched we, steady – such devotion One reads about, or claims in deed, But few men feel, and fewer heed! Till there we stood, upon the gate – The gate we'd felled, and none too late. When from our camp, up came the roar Like none we'd ever heard before. It was a trap, we'd been lured out To expose all else, without doubt... Where we did not, but listen well As everything we'd fought for fell. So it really wasn't surprise When nets fell o'er our dumbstruck eyes – Not even sure protest was made, For it was ourselves we'd betrayed. II. Dungeon One by one, we were lead down here, Inch by inch taught discord and fear. Each condemned to this damp, dark cell... Silenced first, forgotten as well. At four feet high the shackles hang That bite into the skin, and clang... Where every movement in the dark Forever brands, in mind, it's mark. While rats, knowing the smell of blood, They swarmed us in a furry flood Of teeth, claw, and ironically, Resolve to wait till we gave freely. With Charity, Hope, Peace, Truth, Pride, Ambition, Courage, all side by side. The chains, they rattle here no more, But will, in mind, forever more. Their rotting meat I'd longed to taste, Rotting, myself, in barren waste; And yet alive, in light of death... I wished it not – why waste the breath? And so I set, silent and still... As still as death, fearing to feel. And yet still felt that hope to die, But knew that hope was just a lie. My withered hands pulled from the chains, I heard bones snap, still felt no pains. But found I quick that foreign floor I once dreamt of, but dream no more! For alas, when I close my eyes She's there, aglow like the sunrise... The Valkyrie that came for me, I drug to hell unknowingly. And so, with sleeplessness my strength, Gathering self, at last, at length – One last look to the cell where I Thought, surely, I'd be last to die. I took slow each level of stair, Surprised to find no guards stood there... But what, really, was left to guard? A living corpse, mind fractured – scarred? 'Made my way out, into the hall... Still no one there – nothing at all! 'Cept the eerie voice of mistrust Strangled in mouth as dry as dust. III. Epiphany The city we'd charged, the riches stored, Guards who left us to die, ignored... Where were they now? What changed so fast? Certainly not something so vast! But there, what is that horrid sound I find driving me to the ground? The echoes from a camp, long dead, Still running rampant in my head? And peering to the gothic North, Those screams of darkness raining forth; They confiscate both earth and sky, Leave to nothing both ear and eye! An eye that but now sees the wights, Who avoid me, a plague of blights – Those specters of all life once held, But yielded to grief, uncompelled. Where standing over that body, Is that not my sweet Valkyrie? Is she set to desert me too? What more hell can one be put through? And so I charge, if one last time; Bloodied feet, one last hill to climb... To ask my Valkyrie to stay; So I won't have to live this way. But there I freeze, within a tear Run down her cheek – the pain so clear. I curse myself, look down to see The man that she cries for is me? How could this be? I am not dead! But there I lay, the body bled. On my right hand, blood from the heart Been pulled from a chest ripped apart. I turn to her, I finally see... She would take me, if it could be. Valhalla's rules, voiced in her breath, :Body, intact: courageous death." So this, the recourse of my years, Comes but to sweet Valkyrie's tears... I watch fall, throat unslaked by thirst – With lips I'll hold forever pursed. And it's there she fades from my view, To start my term in hell, anew – Ever haunt what memory's cursed... I, Will, did not die last, but first. IV. Epilogue The battlefield – the mind, I see; The stronghold was that of Despair. I gathered all good about me, And led them to die there. I raised the banner, high and proud, For "Destiny Unattained." But could not bear to dawn the shroud For Love, whom I had slain. When, before the gate, set to charge I saw her wraith slip by. Guilt upon me, and fear, at large, I gave no thought to why... But cut the heart clean from my chest, And held it to the wolves. Other's charged on, at my behest? I but recall thundering hooves. With them, in spirtit, I suffered Their horrifying end. But watching them die, unnurtured, Who am I to pretend... ...That I've suffered anything at all. ...That I've some right to grieve. ...That in the dying moonlight pall, I've something left to believe. 'Cept that hell's reliving past deeds, Sleepless, both night and day. Seeing wounds reaped of your sewn seeds, While all else fades to gray. Though she still comes some nights, so kind... To share with me her tears. In truth, it's just tricks of the mind, She always disappears. Michael Anderson 6/28/2012 Did I waste it? Not so much I couldn't taste it. Bono [This message has been edited by Michael (08-25-2013 07:19 PM).] |
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| © Copyright 2012 Michael Anderson - All Rights Reserved | |||
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Startime1955 Senior Member
since 2012-04-22
Posts 1072Alberta, Canada |
BRAVO!!! BRAVO!!!!...The visions of this epic poem are stunning and pure...I LOVE IT...I saw it and grieved...MAGNIFICENT...*BIG HUGS* *may our dreams ever be magical* |
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JerryPat2 Member Laureate
since 2011-02-06
Posts 16975South Louisiana |
Whew! Nobody who post poetry on PiP can come close to the purity of the poem as do you. You do it again and again to our great pride that the blue room has a Michael Anderson in our midst. This wonderful epic touched my heart and I felt each and every line, especially after I realized he was really dead and she was sobbing over his bones. Bravo! Stand. Clap.Clap. Take a bow. ~*~ If they give you lined paper, write sideways. ~*~ |
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jwesley Member Rara Avis
since 2000-04-30
Posts 7563Spring, Texas |
Very much enjoyed this, my friend... one of your best writes (and I read most of them), far as I'm concerned. j. |
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Honeybunch Member Rara Avis
since 2001-12-29
Posts 7115South Africa |
Wow, Michael! This is incredible! Ok - so I'm speechless but sure am feeling a lot. I'll be back to read it again once I've caught my breath. Helen |
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ethome Member Patricius
since 2000-05-14
Posts 11858New Brunswick Canada |
Amazing write! Gotta go back and read it again, superb delivery of all facets.....Loved it! Eric true love never looks after it's own interests |
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suthern
since 1999-07-29
Posts 20723Louisiana |
Many times your work is compared to Poe... and justly so. But I think it's George Gordon who's smiling down on this one. *S* I peeked in on poetry this morning, hoping to make a Monday a bit better... but found one of those "once in a lifetime" poems. And contrary to the name, this isn't your first or only... but even among the great poems your pen's produced, this one shines. Signature Michael Anderson... and it doesn't get better than that. *S* |
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Honeybunch Member Rara Avis
since 2001-12-29
Posts 7115South Africa |
Even better on the second read! |
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suthern
since 1999-07-29
Posts 20723Louisiana |
I agree with Honeybunch. *S* And this is one I'll read many times. *S* |
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Michael
Moderator
Member Rara Avis
since 1999-08-13
Posts 7666California |
Startime1955, thank you so much... I'm glad it touched you the way it did. JP, that quite the humbling compliment... I've never been good at taking them, but I do appreciate it. Thank you, my friend. Jwesley, Honeybunch, Eric, thank you very much. Ruth, It funny you should should bring up Byron. I intended this to be a "prison" poem... and hadn't thought much beyond that when I first started writing. I definitely didn't want to be subconsciously swayed by the magnificence of Chillon, however. The prison part was the first part I actually sat down and wrote, and only when I was trying to figure out who was actually in this prison and how he got there, did the poem start breathing a life of its own for me. Not sure if "epic" is rightfully stated here... but it's as close as I've come in a long time. Felt good to have the muses cooperating for a change.  Michael |
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JamesMichael Member Empyrean
since 1999-11-16
Posts 33336Kapolei, Hawaii, USA |
Fine writing...a brilliant flow of thoughts so skillfully assembled...James |
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