Old Glory


I travelled to the deepest part of the woods

An ebonied darkness, evil’s domain o’er good

Where light cannot whisper a single breath

And men fall prey to the power of death


As the sins of man sift through steady hands

I sacrifice myself upon the bloody lands

Give into instinctual beast there found

Seeping like steam from the unholy ground


I dance in the delight of the stronger few

March on the bones of those we subdue

Relishing a life measured in subtraction

Souls minused in a heartless fashion


This far in holds no wrong or right

Just the will and want to win the fight

It is a bloody and tragic story

Draped in the dust cover of Old Glory


9 Responses to “Old Glory”
  1. This poem leaves me speechless. Knowing just the tip of the iceberg about “those days”, I sense that this is how you were built up to believe in doing what you were told to do. You took an oath and you stood by that oath when it was time to put words into action. For that, I applaud you.

  2. beth says:

    tragic is right, what horrible losses

  3. Francisco Bravo Cabrera says:

    I understand the line that you so well placed in this great poem that says that when you are in the fight there is not a thought of right or wrong, you are fighting to survive and for your brothers/sisters to survive as well. The moral issues disappear and the human urge to survive comes clearly into view. A most well written piece my friend,
    All the best to you,

  4. Jim Borden says:

    I guess at some point it just comes down to doing whatever it takes to survive…

    so that some day you can write poetry…

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