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Oct 06, 2022
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This poem is part of the contest:
Neopoem Of The Week Contest October 2nd to October 8th 2022
The Mighties Are Falling
Ah, the mighties are falling
Their swords return and lay upon their fragile necks
The grasses cover their crack armours
And their helmets roll and turn over helplessly,
Their rifles kiss the blood of the slain
Before their bullets turn back at them
And carry their souls to the dead land.
Where are your rushing to?
Why are you running faster?
Stop, the sweet blood
Return to your vessel
And flow through your routes
Why have you slain this august year?
For anguish is come upon us.
Publish it not in the streets, the daughters
Weep over the souls
Who clothed you in nakedness
Who saved you from slavery.
There is no glory for the battle field
The high land in the forest.
For you have swallowed our kinsmen
In their death, they are not divided
They are swifter than eagles,
And stronger than lions.
How are the mighties falling?
About This Poem
Last Few Words: This poem emphasizes the pain of my country men who had lost their sons and daughters to guerillas. I can answer the question on the last line: 'how are the mighties falling'.
Style/Type: Free verse
Review Request Direction:
What did you think of my title?
How was my language use?
How does this theme appeal to you?
How was the beginning/ending of the poem?
Is the internal logic consistent?
Review Request Intensity: I want the raw truth, feel free to knock me on my back
Editing Stage: Editing - rough draft
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