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Johnson Oyeniran Mar 2023
The ballad of Nalum by Johnson Oyeniran



Under a Sakura tree on a warm and pleasant day,
Sat a battle hardened soldier, trying to stay awake.

''Arise, you must stay vigilant'' muttered the combatant,
''Or youll suffer the same fate as private Melicent.''

But her eyes grew weary then she fell into a deep sleep,
Before the enemy quietly slipped into their keep.

They were bested by ruthless devils more savage than beast,
All the while the sleeping soldier slumbered against a tree.

Luckily for her, she was mistaken for a body,
So they left her be and continued with their killing spree.

Time passed since the enemy took the army by surprise,
They outnumbered them nine to two and left not one alive.

When the enemy were done having the time of their lives,
They merrily marched home with plunder and kukri knives.

In the midst of her fallen comrades, the soldier woke up,
In a state of shock at what she had just seen, she choked up.

''This isnt a prank nor am i dreaming'' wailed the soldier,
''My...brothers and sisters in arms are six feet under!''

''Before long, their mangled corpses will be food for scavengers,
Then nature will bury whats left of these warriors.''

Alone and orderless, the soldier randomly went west,
A tragic choice she would ultimately come to regret.

Now up ahead, roughly half a kilometer away,
Was the entire enemy, camping beside a great lake.

''This can not be happening'', whispered the protagonist,
''How did I end up near the camp of these terrorist?!''

But before she could try to sneak away, she got captured,
Embarrassed by her mistake, the soldier felt so awkward.

After hours of abuse, she was brought before their leader,
He demanded to know how she survived their massacre.

However, the female soldier preferred to stay silent,
Which caused the commander to get extremely violent.

He ordered his guard to pluck out one of her amber eyes,
And use an urumi to render asunder her thighs.

She was no stranger to torture and refused make a sound,
Though she was covered in a pool of her blood in the ground.

Her hands were bound in bronze chains by the commanders order,
But little did he know he had made a deadly error.

Whilst a male guard lead her to a human sized cage at night
She slipped out her chains once she saw he was preoccupied.

Immediately, she wrapped her chains around the guards neck,
Fueled by rage, she choked him with her might till he dropped dead.

Nearby was a deep hole she used to conceal the dead guard,
But first, she took his uniform and cut off his male part.

Later, she blended in with her enemy in disguise,
Her plan was to destroy them all with a fatal device.

Now in an empty tent, she performed a ritual,
Her special blood was needed to make her wish possible.

Soon after,12 ghostly heads hovered out of her symbol,
They were ancient wish granters who were all ethereal.

''Your request?'' asked the 12 heads floating in the air,
''Fashion me a bomb'', begged the female soldier in despair.

''As you wish'', answered the 12 heads she summoned from heaven,
''With this, Ill avenge them all'', declared the army woman.

Just then, word had quickly spread that the soldier had escaped,
So the enemy searched high and low for her in great haste.

Suddenly, they were bewitched by the soldier's melody,
One by one, they mindlessly marched to her tent, slowly.

Out stepped the female soldier standing firm and unafraid,
Wrapped around her body, was the bomb the 12 heads had made.

At the cost of her life, she ignited her lethal bomb,
And at last, the whole enemy both small and great, was gone.

Nalum, Nalum the brave and mighty female warrior!
May your story live on within my poem forever!
Chasson eli Feb 2023
Astonished and flabbergasted,
How come one can be so different yet the same?
A parallel of a non existent soulmate in which they thrive within me yet invoke no emotions?
A kindred soul, familiar yet uncertain of crooked paths and left roads?

What is this torture, a forever  nonmalleable figure,
built of prisms of me, pieces and bits strung together in the shape of an inexcusable beauty.
This is me, yet it is not.
This is us yet there is me and you.  
A mirror that tells;
a mirror that warps;
might-haves and would-nevers.
A distant yet familiar embrace unobtainable.

Utterly wicked display of one's fate;
To realize that your shadow is what you will never be close with.
irinia Feb 2023
death comes with a sway
in the cold of the night
in their beds turned to hell
shed a tear stay to pray
for the dormant force
not to take more away
so easy to forget
how fragile we are
irinia Jan 2023
my imagination
suffers from excess
yesterday in a dream
I said that I sleep
I ordered personalized matchboxes
I saw the sea
in a plate from soup
I heard how a baton
conducts the conductor
I saw a breast
****** by a child
I uncovered a naked surgeon
on my operating table
and I recognized the voice of ******
among those gassed in auschwitz

by Volker W. Degener translated from the German by Adam A. Zych with Andrzej  Diniejko
from The Auschwitz Poems an anthology edited by Adam A. Zych
Fianzy Jan 2023
She said “if you’re such a romantic why do you keep on settling for the minimum?”

If she only knew how romance works, it’s getting lost in those mundane things.
It’s a look only you and him share.
It’s a shared connection.
In modern time it translates to taking one airpod and giving him the other.

Unfortunately, for a romantic who suffers the wrath of heartache more often than need be.
It is the moment we fall in love with, the high we chase in that feeling.

Goodness, I haven’t loved half the men I've been with but I sure loved how they made me feel.
I fall in love with sunsets and his smile.
Randy Johnson Dec 2022
When I fired my gun at a criminal, I accidentally shot an innocent bystander.
I made a horrible mistake, I was supposed to shoot someone else than her.
The person who I accidentally shot was only eighteen years old and I killed her.
The guilt I feel is too much to bear and I resigned, I'm no longer a police officer.
When I shot and killed that girl, it was a horrible accident, I did not mean to do it.
Even though the police academy trained me not to make such a mistake, I blew it.
I shed tears every single day because I feel remorse.
My wife can't take it anymore, she's getting a divorce.
My wife constantly told me to get over it but she was beating a dead horse.
I ruined my life, I've lost my wife and I had to resign from the police force.
When I accidentally shot and killed that girl, it was a tragic thing to do.
If you're a cop, I pray that what happened to me doesn't happen to you.
Unpolished Ink Dec 2022
Those who the sea shall take
will be flowers
wave borne blossoms
petals of memory
do not wither
as do blooms on land
we think of them
each rolling tide
that gently kisses sand
Written in response to a tragedy
Andy Chunn Nov 2022
“She toddled in the mighty Duck
And almost never was”
Whether by design or luck
Or maybe just because

Summertime in Tennessee
So scorching hot and dry
The family thought a swim could be
Relief so we would try

While swimming came so easy
For most of us that day
But Mom was water queasy
So on the bank she lay

My friend and I, we swam like fish
In the deep Duck River
A day that would make you wish
This fun could last forever

My baby sister was so small
She could barely walk
She toddled and then down would fall
And jabbered with her talk

So Dad had moved into the deep
That’s when I saw it well
My sister ran without a peep
Into the Duck she fell

Momma screamed and I just froze
And out of sight she went
The muddy Duck would now propose
Another life be spent

My Dad had sprung to action
On hearing of the scream
He dived as a reaction
Into the muddy stream
.
.
.
And many years would pass us by
She studied hard and long
Nothing was too tough to try
She never got it wrong

A Ph.D and drug design
She makes the pills you need
If you were really in a bind
And needed meds indeed

She plays piano and reads the books
And knows so much inside
She sews and cleans and then she cooks
With logic as her guide

Accomplishments on every level
Complete and tried and true
But humble, never would she revel
In all that she could do
.
.
.

He came back up and looked around
His eyes began to beg
He dived again and there he found
And grabbed her by the leg

Upside down he pulled her up
And water did pour out
And soon we heard her cry startup
Relief without a doubt
.
.
.

Remembering that day and so
A blessing to repay
That was sixty years ago
But feels like yesterday

I sometimes think of all the luck
That happened just because
“She toddled in the mighty Duck
And almost never was”
I see your  darkness beautiful with thee
                                                        It’s a tragedy
I came so close to death but
                                      it's to life that I'm
                                                                 devoted
Evie G Sep 2022
But what becomes of those who make haste, who waste their given time to waste?
Who scorn at lovers walking by,
Who battle Eros, refuse to fly
Well within their guardians reach
Whos flesh-giving boundaries are impeached?

A tale that’s told a thousand times
But falls on Harpocates ears.
Like he who flies into the sun
each time his tale is told,
As greener leaves they turn to brown
As soon the nights grow cold
It’s written now, the Moirai are set.
All we ask,
Do not forget.
Thought it would be fun to vent in the form of a Greek tradgedy prologue, though it sounds a little more morality play style if im being honest. THOUGHTS!!! GIVE ME ANY AND ALL THOUGHTS
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