"battlesong" poems
When the heart has fallen short,
the mind cannot conceive the sort
of sins that plague the failing souls,
who lack in shame and self-control.
Kindness dies and hatred reigns,
and good has lost the peace campaign.
And like a nameless virus spreads,
Death preys upon the world’s unfed.
And still I hope that when I stand
against destructive and misguided man,
That freedom, love and fate’s design,
will join me at the fighting lines.
And finally, amidst the cries,
Beneath the vast and blackened skies,
With courage and my soldiers three,
I'll set some broken spirits free.
Mar 29, 2010
Mar 29, 2010 at 1:30 PM UTC
I have fought Apollyon,
Upon the dawn of longing on
Arose from strangle-holden focus,
Underfitted overloaded,
Boded stranger, strangely broken
And on the other side of struggle
After-hours aptly uttered
Words of triumph mixed with spittle
Sweat and blood and withered whittled
Will and bear of predilection
Heavy laden slighted vision
And yet regret no fatal blow
To fine and fell my fated foe
Called above so thrown below
Wicked wastes on wanting throne
Cursed and calloused cradled claw
First to hubris first to fall
I’ve hated battle; brutal beaten
But you the worse, Apol the ******
I cry high all hope and prayer
Yet unrespondent standing there
I’m reminded I was subject
I was slave no title subtext
Beyond your kingdom freedom came
I rushed to kinship out from Cain
And now destruction twice escaping
I cling to dreams until a waking
Fall, call me back and fight again
I courage up, I enter in
Clanging faith and sword to reason
You’ve hailed my battle, named my treason
Fought till sweat was mixed with blood
Not mine but thorned and vaunted hung
Just the strength to steady aim
And ****** upon thy gruesome frame
So praise now high the Highest song
My heart halts hexed Apollyon
Oct 2, 2016
Oct 2, 2016 at 6:39 PM UTC