Poetry - My Nations Voice
46This is a poem about the futility of waging war in a far off land.
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Eyes search for the slightest shadow.
Ears strain for the smallest sound.
Mouth drawn tight over yellowed teeth.
Feet slowly searching for safer ground.
Jacket soiled with blood and grime.
Trousers stained because you had no choice,
And in your hand you cradle there,
Your child, unborn, a nation’s voice.
A sudden movement.
More felt than seen, sends you crashing to hug the dirt.
Your hands tighten on your unborn child,
While your tongue licks away the stomachs hurt.
A shadow rises before your face,
And through your teeth a scream is heard.
Your child gives birth and a nation’s voice,
Sends on its messengers with their deadly word.
As night returns to peace once more,
You're found staring yet, at the form at your feet.
The rings on her finger tainted red with death.
Are your future dreams that will keep you from sleep.
Without a thought for sound or sight.
You walk on, towards another endless night.
A bayonet strikes; and a nation’s voice is left lying,
A thousand miles away.
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CommentsLoading...
Thank you for your kind comment Timely.
This is a great piece of poetry and is as emotional as it's subject.
Thank you for your kind words wrenfrost...:)
Very deep one2get2no! Very nicely done though...
Thank you Michael.
Thoughts provoking....
Thank you Kazeem
A poet's voice is not his own. He writes for those who cannot write and lives for those who cannot live and sometimes, as here, he dies one thousand miles from his home and his existence is sacrificed for naught. Thank you for dying at the point of a bayonet for a pointless cause.
Yes needless sacrifice as are thousands of others.
Timely 2 years ago
But the voice is still heard from all who serve and have served. A voice might go silent, yet the spirit is heard and kept alive in another.
Moving with deep emotion.