He stands tall and faces his enemy,
Pride rides his back in a show of strength,
He’ll stand his ground knowing he has his empathy,
Backing him in this fight at length.
**
He swallows his words and waits to see what he’ll hear,
His nemesis smiles in a false sense of glory,
Why? Because his stubbornness is not the friend he believes,
And he has no idea of our warrior’s vast inventory.
**
The foolish combatant starts with an attack,
And a clash of swords echoe across the darkening sky,
Cymbals of steel ring and box our ears,
Ensuring we all look in that direction, casting our eye.
**
It’s fierce and bloody, a battle to the death,
Wounds scream in agony as a limb succumbs,
Blood runs freely; this is no child’s game,
For one of these men, death quickly comes.
**
The battle is long and weary, never ending,
The sharpness of steel blunts to a dull edge,
A lustful scream of determination rallies each thrust,
Pushing the other closer to life’s slippery edge.
**
Muscle fatigue begins to slow the energetic dance,
Both understanding the end is rushing near,
They lock eyes, suddenly realising it could go either way,
And his nemesis reacts clumsily to his realising fear.
**
A stroke of what sounded like thunder to our naive ears,
Battered and echoed off the dark clouds that swirl high,
A final parry of swords as his enemy lost the battle,
And fell to the ground with a death rattling sigh.
**
Our warrior slipped to his knees beside the one he just bested,
Tears cascade through the grit on his face,
He bends over the corpse and closes its eyes,
Destitute to know he’d killed, much to his disgrace.
**
We watched from afar as the emotions took their toll,
And we heard the warriors whispered words to the dead,
“If only you’d realised your stubbornness worn foolishly upon your shoulders,
Was the real reason that ensured your death here instead.”
**
He rose to his feet and bowed his head to the battle worn body,
That lay at his feet in silent defeat,
His heart has grown heavy due to a deed he despised,
Hoping with his entire heart, it will never be a deed he need ever repeat.
Please click the link below my name to read more of my work. I would also like to thank you for taking the time to read this today and for all your support.
If you enjoy this piece, you may enjoy this one too.
Please visit my website if you'd like more information on my newly published book, Battle Angel : The Ultimate She Warrior.
Originally published on Medium
About the Creator
Colleen Millsteed
My first love is poetry — it’s like a desperate need to write, to free up space in my mind, to escape the constant noise in my head. Most of the time the poems write themselves — I’m just the conduit holding the metaphorical pen.
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Comments (3)
It's okay, we can always learn from mistakes. That's what makes us wiser. Loved your poem!
The hero to be admired is the one who grieves for what must be done.
Magnificent!!! ❤️❤️💕