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Open Poetry #34
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barbaraj
Member
since 2003-01-24
Posts 139
Nova Scotia, Canada

0 posted 2004-12-28 05:55 PM


Part1(repost)
A king sits high upon his throne,
Awaiting the son he calls his own.
The Prince will lead the troops to war,
A call to arms he cannot ignore.

"Why, Son, must you go and fight?
Others have equal skill and might."

"Father, that is not how I was raised.
Truth and valor rule my days.
I must heed my people's cry,
And defend them even if I'll die.
I go now down the battle path,
Where widows weep and dead men laugh.
I know not if I'll return.
I cannot 'til the enemy burns."

"Son, I see now that you must go.
I have faith in you and love you so.
You must know before you leave;
If you die, we all will grieve.
And though you'll die a hero's death,
We'll rue the war with every breath.
When you win: you must and you will,
We'll celebrate and the streets will fill.
We will rejoice for nights and days,
And write stories, songs, poems and plays."

"Father, you praise me much too soon.
I leave not for the war till noon.
Our troops are the bravest in the land,
Yet the enemy holds a mighty hand.
We'll put up a deadly fight,
From daybreak and by moonlight.
Watch for news beyond that hill,
One day soon, you'll know fate's will.
If white flags you do see,
I'll return in victory.
But if the only flags you see are black,
Then you'll know I won't be coming back."

Father and son now depart,
Both with heavy words in heavy hearts,
A Prince sits high upon his horse,
Waiting to lead and plot a war's course.
A King sits high upon his throne,
Awaiting the son he calls his own

Part2
Time goes on, the wheel still turns
High on his throne, a king's heart yearns
He awaits his son's return from war
The Prince's absence, he cannot ignore

It's been three years since war's start
Three years of tearing two nations apart
Generals claim they'll win, in time, they will!
But the time that passes is just more time to kill
The people's cries are now death groans
Not heeded by the kings atop their thrones

The King just waits, and hopes, and prays
That the Prince will come home, one of these days
He watches the hill for word of son's blight
From day's break and by moon's light
The country is failing, can't the King see?
He's blinded by visions of victory
Crime runs amok, the lack of justice is stark
Without royal guidance, the country's in the dark

The prince went down that battle path
The road is now lined with dead men who no longer laugh
Where is the honor in this fight?
How can anyone say that this war was right?
The enemy burns, but they too burned us
We can't rejoice, there's nothing left but dust
There'll be no stories, there'll be no plays
Only mourning will fill the streets and the days
The King waits for a sign, but there's a snag
There's no one left alive to raise the flag
We do rue the war, with every breath
It seemed right before all of the death

A Prince lies dying, among his men
Thinking of the home he won't see again
A King sits high upon his throne,
Awaiting the son who won't come home




© Copyright 2004 Barbara Warner - All Rights Reserved
miscellanea
Member Elite
since 2004-06-24
Posts 4060
OH
1 posted 2004-12-28 06:10 PM


A very well written tear jerker!  Very powerful write!
            miscellanea

barbaraj
Member
since 2003-01-24
Posts 139
Nova Scotia, Canada
2 posted 2005-01-19 06:47 PM


thank you
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