Seven in all.
Little man, speak.
The eagle’s call.
Your time is running out.
The mountain’s peak.
Let forth a shout.
We are the chosen.
The bodies reek.
Baptized within Chosin.
December freezes.
The woman’s shriek.
The trigger finger eases.
The undead have risen.
The newborn’s wail.
The mother has given.
Chaos in the streets.
He looks pale.
The black fog retreats.
She is crying.
Th’ babe is frail.
The tears are drying.
The skin is burnt.
The beached whale.
The things you weren’t.
The oil spills.
The burning hay bale.
The gas kills.
The lightning ignites all of our desires.
The shades of red shall consume you.
Thou shalt run like a madman.
Thou shalt howl like a demon.
The eclipse has fallen upon us.
The sands of the east call to you.
In the meantime—
“Praise the Lord and pass the ammunition.”
Auf wiedersehen, mein Junge.
さよなら。
-
Author:
Ryan Modawell (Pseudonym) (
Offline) - Published: July 28th, 2021 23:10
- Comment from author about the poem: Off the top of my head. My very first nonsense poem.
- Category: Unclassified
- Views: 11
- User favorite of this poem: L. B. Mek.
Offline)
Comments1
there's a lot of depth
to your nonsense, dear poet
keep striving and growing
your poetic talent deserves nothing less
be it for hobby or merely, self-realised: fate
(in my humble opinion)
thanks for choosing to share
Thank you for your encouraging words. I strive to commit myself to nonsensical words, hoping that others find themselves at least somewhat intrigued by it.
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