A thousand shattered stars weep blood, as gentle merriment dies in the dusk,
Betraying the sun and sky. A million minutes rocket by,
Never to be reclaimed.
But days are birthed to die, guillotined violently by the knight they serve. Replaced.
The high speed spirits that rage and ricochet, unsealed creatures which indiscriminately slay.
Jealousy, envy and strife, lashing about with untamed haste.
A master of humanity gleams coldly, at the War-God's gate. The helm of night rests upon his crown.
A lord among men, full of undying hate. A hundred corpses piled at his feet, to change his own fate.
Victims of his boundless wrath.
Men are born to practice and perish, and their general are more of the same.
A perfect photograph of conflict imprints in the mind. Their calm, they leave behind.
Pictures of madness.
Early night howls ring forth, echoes of the great soldier's pain.
The death-wind blows near.
Four lights brighten the sky.
From each, a tender breeze descends, with white paper floating gently in their grips and bends.
The final chance.
Master and man alike pen their death-letters to the Battle-God himself.
Acceptance is paradise; forever freed from judgment. Rejection is agony, an eternal torment.
A land of eternal snow waits.
Poems are a tough spot, for me. It's pretty hard for me to write them, since I tend to put an incredibly deep meaning into them, and I take a long time to write them. For this one, I had the luck of already having a rough draft from a school project, which I liked so much that I decided to rework it. I can't say it's perfect, but it means a good deal to me.
I hope you enjoy.