Submit your work, meet writers and drop the ads. Become a member
 
Apr 2015 · 285
My Fallen
M R J Graham Apr 2015
Instantly, lightning is shining
and I am wet,
I guess it is raining
I plant my hands into the dirt
an unspeakable tone starts to fly,
I guess I am wailing

there is no sun, the moon obscured
the clock has stroke, the darkness flows
I feel little knives landing on my face
the wind is howling,
I guess it's the rain

I have no prayer,
this night of terror
monsters seem silent, but they are raging
they can feel it too, it feels like ending

I do this alone,
no one is helping
I try my last, to open this house
this dirt feels heavy, my arms are breaking

to reach the inmate, of this wretched grave
I reached into the dark, no one called me brave
I broke my hand, finding my fallen, and,
good deeds never helped, nothing seemed grand
M R J Graham Mar 2015
I expected to be
But now I'm not
I'm not the same since I felt something
When no human light shed on me
But,
The creatures that be gave my raw hand to the wind
Now everyone feels me
But yet,
I do not
For light is far away and I feel stumped
Let them who boasted reap the immortal harvest of the light
I left my body behind and picked that dark fight,
To reach the light
A lot of vague ghosts abandoned it,
Having seen it as it was truly the light
But, no matter, I still roamed and swung my sword,
That little beacon of light
Undeserving ghosts left and I alone felt the knife to my bone in the dark
And I alone saw, and felt that glitter of light that everyone hastily left behind
The bare light, the naked truth that carved me open in that dark night.
Mar 2015 · 446
Requiem
M R J Graham Mar 2015
Don't listen to the song
It's just a requiem for an old sword
A silver sword turned dark
A greatsword, a broadsword, a sellsword
A soldier's life a king's toy
And traces of blood
The sign of another chance
The silver not shining anymore
Buried under the dark
Succumbed to the way of life

Don't listen to the requiem
Don't cry to it's rhythm
I'm just an old sword
Cry for the mothers
                                 fathers
                                               Children
Not me,
Never me,
My steely heart never deserved a cry
Mar 2015 · 412
The First Moment
M R J Graham Mar 2015
Great walls push us from behind
Mirrors stand idle in front of us
I see cars changing lanes from the window aside
Here we are, being crushed between ourselves and the images that once belonged to us

The shining image of the future I expected to see ahead
The band, I brought to chain a blurry future
But, the image dripped suddenly into a well from my head
The future spread and the band instead tied my flying nature

I never saw myself to live a thousand years again
So, again, I forgot to make the first moment begin

— The End —