cruxvader
Seigneur
Registration Date: 17.05.2006
Posts: 155
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(This is a contemptus mundi poem, and thread =P)
Come close brave soul who tread the earth.
Listen to my words
Lest you rush off into battle prenurtured
Therefore, know of the stilling hurt
which our brothers have taken
Our brethren, now fallen
know them deeply in their hearts
So they may speak to thee openly.
In days past the world was great
Yea, few were shaken by it's forces
But as time erodes our skin
We have found ourselves broken
Tattered, and beaten
And long forgotten even more
For when the words of the righteous come
Speak many things, but leave a scorn
Broken shields
Broken axes
Broken view
Without saxon
Or met folk.
I take up the mead to my lips
To praise my fallen brethren
To realize all of them, gone
From all forms of existence
Therefore, I am left, singled as a savant
With no souls left to grieve, I fight carefully as a blind man finds his way through darkness
The great sorrow begins to unearth
My eyes drop beneath the falling sun
And now, I see heathen and clergyman
Both of them, alike, side by side
In woe and sorrow.
Yea, All that are left are yet memories
And they are no exchange for company.
I write with a cold hand unto the perils of the earth
And an even colder heart.
This post has been edited 1 time(s), it was last edited by cruxvader: 07.05.2007 10:45.
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