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The soldier’s call

Bluntly burning
blows blasting
to and fro throughout
the blood born
battlefield. With
nothing but
smog and smoke smearing
across the
ambiguous air the
soldiers stiffly
stand and sternly stare .
For they do
not yield even with
terror tearing
through their harrowing hearts
still they march .
Never to wither in dither
for their minds
like a jumping jovial jester
fervently festers
with an earnest honor
for the fallen
who fought and
walked before
into the wistful winds of war.

About This Poem

Editing Stage: Editing - rough draft

About the Author

Region, Country: Virginia, USA

Favorite Poets: Edgar Allan Poe homer Dante Alighieri Oscar Wilde , William Wordsworth

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Comments

Geezer

Geezer

7 months 3 weeks ago

How gallant these souls...

I admire them very much.
The reluctance to kill,
but the will to survive.

But the enemy will not surrender,
and there can be no negotiations.
Never give up,
use my last breath...

Candlewitch

Candlewitch

7 months 3 weeks ago

Dear Edward,

A poem stuffed to the brim with alliteration, I like it!

like a jumping jovial jester
fervently (festers) maybe another word here as festers means to rot or become infected? How about substituting (frolics)? but it is your choice to accept or ignore the offered advice as it is your poem :)

hugs, Cat

Edward nigma

Edward nigma

7 months 3 weeks ago

Thank you

My reason for using festers was the idea of the faces of the fallen festering within their minds birthing a sense of honor and respect. with that honor morphing into motivation for them to keep going. And so they march.