So cold, the rifle hard to hold
Death, always keeps you waiting
For now, I pen a verse
Love and hope, so strange
In the waiting game
I’ll kill you if I can
That’s the plan
Love and hope
It’s written in the stars
Reminds you who you are
But for now, it wasn’t to be
We move back
My rifle and me
Love and hope
It’s the least we can be.
-
Author:
Paul Bell (Pseudonym) (
Offline) - Published: July 11th, 2026 06:10
- Category: Unclassified
- Views: 15
Offline)
Comments3
The rifle the modern cupid bow. A good write my friend nicely worded
Yes it sure is. Hopefully the pen a paper never gets replaced.
It is a bit sad that most poetry now days is on a screen and to get one into a book requires money, time and luck
Paul, this is a compelling piece. The stark reality of the battlefield sits alongside the simple insistence on love and hope, and that tension gives the poem its strength. The ending leaves the reader with something worth carrying forward. Wonderful write, my friend. 🌹🖤🙏🕯️
Letters from the trenches, compelling reads, and sometimes the final read.
That's humans for yer, ain't it? Two contradictory ideas capable of living side by side without discomfort..
A simple truth in straightforward verse.
Yeah, it is strange how they both go together.
One may save you, one may tell others how you lived or died.
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