Ansty Poetry. (For all those who're addicted to the angst)
Once upon a time,
In an age of legends.
Where miracles seemed real,
And on faith alone we would depend.
On wide-spread sun-kissed grasslands,
Summer breeze against the trees,
Lakes glistening beneath starlight,
Glowing white lilies.
Men toiling in the fields,
Women toiling at home,
Children playing in the streets,
Under the bridges, arches, and domes.
In this peaceful world,
Untainted, untarnished, and pure.
Doubt slowly crept in malice on his face,
Sowing seeds that nought but evil bore.
Then we became enemies,
In a war torn land,
Each fighting for our own,
On deserts sands.
Flesh we tore,
Bones we broke,
Blood we shed,
With a flick of a sword.
Disease crept in.
Life came, life went.
Desperation burned through.
Life was easily spent.
Now the war is over.
And despair has seeped in.
And the line between right and wrong,
Has grown irrevocably thin.
No longer do the men toil the fields,
The women are gone,
No children play on the streets,
A ghost town is left forlorn.
Tonight cold and empty,
Amidst their graves we are now,
Naught but soldiers with bloodstained hands.
We’re no longer friend or foe,
But we are silent mourners,
Beneath this same crimson sky we stand.
Like I said in my bio. I have a tendency to write poetry on late insomniac nights. This is actually tied in with a fic on fanfiction.net on my second FF.net account. (I have two)