Poem: On My Own

On My Own

A freely structured poem story by Sam Oliver [Eris]


Like the lines all dancing down

Through the black

Through the rain


Like the fires raining stark

On the grasses

On the plains


Like the lightning strikes the earth

All the soldiers

All the men


From these walls they do defend

Like the guardians

Of their hearts.


Yet while they fight I sit and wait

As the war now nears my gate.


I’m the one who stands

On he/r own

On he/r own.

I’m the one who stands

On he/r own.


Like a rhythm in the heart

Forever after

Forever now


Like a drumbeat in the dark

Somehow silent

Somehow mine


Like the world with its light

Growing flowers

Growing trees


Like the sky, a dancing night

High above

High below


Descend now angels, hear them sing

Of the souls

Of the songs


Below them shouts of hope do ring

From the soldiers

From the darkness


Hope that’s thwarted by heaven’s hand

The angels flight now does demand

A price for splendor we observe

Warriors’ lives spent from our reserves

Silence falls like hammer silver

While I wait inside my room

Blessed winter comes too swiftly

For the soldiers and their doom.


The men who fought for me now die

In the hundreds, in the thousands

Watch them flee while I deny

This isn’t real

This isn’t mine


In the quiet I am broken

But I stand-

On my own

And I stand

On my own.


Stone-shod window with its claws

Like a demon without laws

See the fires flung through fear

Hear the astral spirits cheer

For the victory of my foe

For the coming dark and row

They’ve had with me and mine so long

I know that even if I’m strong

I will die

Where I stand

On my own- now




©2012 Sam Oliver [Eris]





Just a poem that I wrote. Good to cut these darker feelings off, yes? Probably. I’m sure it’s absolutely chock full of meaning. It certainly meant a lot to me as I wrote it, even if the end result feels a little thick. Perhaps I could’ve confined myself to some form or rule or something, but sometimes I feel like I’d rather just tell a story. Grim as it is.  walp. enjoy as always. Comments, critiques, etc? Drop me one as a reply. I’m always up for hearing thoughts and I usually try to get back to them.

Er. Not to be a downer or anything. Poetry is, after all, a raw expression of feeling and emotion. Maybe I ought to do something about how totes depressing my poetry can end up being :3?

Then again, maybe not.



4 thoughts on “Poem: On My Own

  1. this reminds me of the pictures you used to draw with little pockets of soldiers all running around doing soldier things while overhead a giant fire breathing dragon flamed them all to smithereens. I don’t know why, it just does.

    • Thanks, Megan! ❤ I'm glad you think so! I'll do some tweaking to it probably. I feel like the last line could be 'on my own' again, and that some lines need some shaping for this to reach its full potential.

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