The Horrors of War

A scythe in hand and a fire in heart
The remnants of all that war had brought
I walk down the canals of the underground
Amongst the dead, a flying vagabond.

No memorials would bury me like my lords
Those over which little mice carelessly trod
Scratching their souls that no mortal could touch
As I do, if it hardly batters them so much.

I move grave to grave with no intention
No plans in life, ambitions nor tension
Carrying just the rag that covers me up
And the burden of sins of the soldiers’ blood.

It was a bloody affair, this war and all
Men, brethren, animals all assembled to cull
With no reason but mutual animosity of kind
No kindness spared, vengeance on the mind.

And now I walk amongst the dead
Horse, friend, foe, bullets all spent
With only a scythe to dispel the dark
No victors that war has gained.


A Love Story

Let me tell you a story of long ago
So long ago that people may not know
A passionate young poet lost his flair
To a beautiful maiden, lovely and fair.

The poet had fallen in love with the girl
Musings turned into poetry the entire fall
The maiden was a fan of the poet’s art
And she too seemed to have lost her heart

The poet had no titles, power and pelf
A heart and an art, concentrated to oneself
He spent them both to compliment the girl
He wrote and she read, fall after fall.

One day, the poet presented a lovely song
The kind that melts the heart of maidens and all
The girl sent lots of compliments in return
Still ignorant of the original inspiration.

The poet shivered as if woken up from the dead
As he opened the scented letter from the girl that said
She was impressed with the poetry he churns out so well
And wished if he could compose a poem on herself.

The poet returned a mail to write his best ever verse
If they could meet and know each other first
They fixed a meeting, both so excited and thrilled
The poet met with an accident and was killed.

Before he ascended the three steps to heaven
Before he saw his life slipping out in vain
The poet asked the angel just one more wish
To hold her once and leave a gentle kiss.

The maiden dressed well and waited for him
Hours passed, she cried but could never see him
The torrents blew heavily, pecking at her neck
She rushed back home, turning her love into hate.

Would someone tell her who the poems were about
That the poet loved her, would she ever figure out
Would she find one equal to love her so much
Love is so promising, but life is such.


Castles of Rhyme

The desire to succeed, being in champions' breed
The celebrations over a score and the relief even more
Meeting people who are now friends, and those people I repent
People who changed my life, and those who started a strife
Working all in extremes, making the best of all means
Hanging around with friends, procrastination till the end
Successive events scaled or failed, rough seas heartily sailed
Those orders and powers employed, some aspirations destroyed
Vagabonds merely for fun, some works of noble note done
Numerous was the herd of such, but we did make so much
Trotting through these frames of mind, these sands of time
The departing fleet of memories pined through castles of rhyme.