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
Alone.
©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.
-Eris
A Discordant Domain 