Thursday, November 3, 2011

The Soldier




Standing in lines, we were raised to follow
Chewed and thrown away like figs, we rot cursed and hollow.

The evening sun bleeds red, our veins are filthy drains
Our hearts hacked to pieces, our minds fettered in chains

My life despises me, death calls me a coward
My dreams flay me, Death angels please come forward
  


The pity of war I fight , the worth of blood I shed
The daemons haunt my senses, my soul they often behead

I smell blood, and I see smoke
I feel blood and I feel smoke
Shock, grief and pain I cause
Im cursed and sans the pause
I see blood and I see smoke
I drink blood and I breathe smoke





















[The entry was result of one of those legendary poetry battles with Ninja Talented  Rohini Singh. I thank her for the exceptional contribution.One of the posts which makes the blog "less" quixotic]








4 comments:

S said...

Standing in lines, we were raised to follow
Chewed and thrown away like figs, we rot cursed and hollow.

In love with these lines! Amazing one :)

Rohini said...

Merci Monsieur!! :D you are only too generous... was an amazing experience!! honoured.. :)

quixotic.knight said...

@S
In the wake of the Bolshevik victory, Mayakovsky had likened the defeat of tsarism to a “chewed stump of a fag; we spat their dynasty out"

The lines are inspired from Mayakovsy's famous lines :)

quixotic.knight said...

@Rohini:

The pleasure, was all mine

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