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A slow rabble was the army tent In the sense events commenced. Lines lingered laughingly long Senescent men intent in resentment Furiously fighting fear. Young men too, letting bravery ferment Fools to the firmament. Fate's Impertinent Bent by torments underwent. Who begged to be sent off to war? Not me for sure; not anymore. I won't ask why I was whisked away, That I thought through though. Wistfully waiting, I Inclined To outline this old tale of mine In the event I'm left behind. So to whom it may concern, Know you how my spirit burned! Watch as I, while mortal Fought foul fate, so much unearned And how, with luck, I'll yet return.
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Apr 15, 2019
Apr 15, 2019 at 7:41 AM UTC
To Whom It May Concern
A slow rabble was the army tent In the sense events commenced. Lines lingered laughingly long Senescent men intent in resentment Furiously fighting fear. Young men too, letting bravery ferment Fools to the firmament. Fate's Impertinent Bent by torments underwent. Who begged to be sent off to war? Not me for sure; not anymore. I won't ask why I was whisked away, That I thought through though. Wistfully waiting, I Inclined To outline this old tale of mine In the event I'm left behind. So to whom it may concern, Know you how my spirit burned! Watch as I, while mortal Fought foul fate, so much unearned And how, with luck, I'll yet return.
This is the fifth poem in my The ****** Journal series, although I suppose you could call this the first poem in the set, as this is going to be the beginning of the narrative. Feel free to critique!
Chase_Parrish
Written by
21/M/United States of America
Apr 15, 2019
Apr 15, 2019 at 7:41 AM UTC
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