What a Surprise...
I was at range yesterday when one of my colleagues, whom I didn't even know came up to me and asked: "Hey Hey, are you the one who wrote The Requiem?"
I paused, befuddled for 3 seconds before replying: "How did you know of the poem" (For I totally do not recall sharing the poem with anybody from my workplace.
He answered: "Oh I found it in the DO account." (From there i understood, for I composed the poem in the midst of stifling boredom when I was doing duty some months back).
After some conversation, I realised that my little poem has somewhat earned a small reputation in my workplace, so here it goes...
THE REQUIEM
The age of great wars gone by
For man, peace descends at last
But this treasure, some will not buy
Upon the iron, stain with rust
Hands of the architect at work
Unheard, unseen, unspoken
His creation built upon glory
He named it – The Institution
Fade away, beauty of man
Enslaved, his shackled soul
But worst, his ignorant marvels
The chains he cast of gold
To this era, few men are born
Each master of their own
Hearts untainted, jewels they scorn
This darkness they shall not mourn
Not by choice did they gather
But choice they ever made
To bear this weight, not falter
And see to this crusade
November hailed the fellowship
Set forth upon the journey
“Shatter the gears, burn the wires”
May god grant them his mercy
The eye of the ever wary
Shall spy the tracks they leave
Fugitives hunted by but too many
To rest is denied their greave
Pass the plains, littered of lifeless
For should they forget the fates
Of many a previous reckless
Who challenged to fall the gates
Countless their battle encounters
Comrades fall to frost
The raging storm, hooves of cavaliers
Please bury my brother lost
Marching forth to the final battle
Numbers so great, each so small
Little marks the death of another
Who fights not even for gall
Outnumbered they have long known
All efforts futile accepted
Spears splinter, struck on stone
The end unchanged, uncharted
On the brink of history reliving
These men march valiantly forth
The hands of Hades in bidding
The orcish blood their broth
Swords shall shatter, shields shall break
Wife and child, dismay
Fires shall burn for those not wake
But this is not the day
For beyond the blaze and scorch
And before the fall of night
There lies the hope of tomorrow
And for this hope, we shall fight
Happy reading, drop a comment if you will, even if it is criticism. Don't worry i won't drop a grenade in your house, hahaha.
