All I can see are colours
Whirling and flying all around
Raging all red and blinding
The sounds of battle slowly blank out
For here a moment ago
There were the glorious knights
All resplendent in gleaming armour
Their steeds snorting fire and flame
Steady as a mountain we rode
Driven by a relentless hate
Heads held high, mouthing indignities
Afraid not us, we rode for the end
My brother leading us begins to laugh
A moment later he is mangled splinters
Right then cold fear consumes me
But the hoard behind me would not stop
The race to the sword has only begun
Wave after wave keep up the charge
Only to crash uncomprehendingly against the rock
My proud, brave and foolish peers
Die for a cause not their own
And as I lie cowering in agony
I know I shall pass forgotten
I am a manager, a nameless tool
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7 comments:
Morose :(
"..they are all mad,
but it is a divine madness.."
:-)
shreya - I wrote it during a 4 hr training session on corporate taxes. My mood must have been very despondent :)
sheep - how is it divine?
oooh,... i think this is the first poem, which i understand and which does not rhyme ;-) hehehe
That was about the charge of the Light Brigade. :) "Into the valley of death they rode.." etc.
sheep - that was one awesome poem...only the english wud write a poem abt a famous defeat..
mastram- I can never rhyme :)
Yus. Though even some Indians write great poems about defeat, no?
'Bundele harbolon ke muh humne suni kahani thi.. Khoob ladi mardani..' etc. :)
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