More Poetry

    I am adding the entire version of my "No Longer Alone" poem that some of you have already read. I changed the end of Part 3 a little bit. It shows that I am a hopeless romantic, but you know, I'm not embarrassed!

   Again, school has begun and I am in the starting to enter the thick of it. I am taking a math class this semester and it is probably going to take up a lot of my time. Still, I am thinking of you all and poetry is so easy to throw out there.

  Till next time!

No Longer Alone

Part 1-

He knew the horrors of battle,

As well as the pains of feeling alone,

Terror, agony, blood,

A familiarity,

To the broken man,

A ruler of legions,

Kingdoms and hills,

Far and wide,

Left to him by a father,

Brutal and anger filled,

Leaving a heir bitter,

Raw with hate,

For those in his way,

No mercy is rendered,

No conscience completed.

Though if one should wake,

In the middle of the night,

Among the dank castle walls,

They would hear the wails,

Of the king,

Scarred by the past.

Morning comes,

He rides abroad,

As tired as before,

Ruthlessly patrolling,

Dirty streets and alleys,

He attempts to strike with force,

A filthy wretch, back turned,

The cloak is torn to reveal…

Dark hair,

Beautiful brows,

Gleaming eyes,

Something pure and free,

Taken aback by such a rare sight,

In a land of turmoil,

He withdraws his hand of wrath,

Staring at something deep,

That called in winter months.

Standing there a woman,

Consumed by knowledge of good.

Down go the walls in a moment,

Crashing in on themselves,

The tender voice shatters him,

With gentle word, she whispers,

Moving gracefully away.

In another moment,

He rides on,

Choking on the inside,

Bitterness suffocating again,

Only to be hammered down,

The thought of her.

Part 2-

He struggles,

To regain former strength,

Yet it is like climbing,

A sheer wall,

He is drowning, pretending, gasping,

Sitting alone watching her face.

She has disappeared from the docks,

The streets and roads,

At night he rides quietly away,

To search,

Searching for soul and for her,

For life encrusted with joy,

Not gems.

Merciful, Lord!

Help him!

One so torn,

So broken,

Heart like stone,

Emotions like glass,

Eyes dart in desperation,

Never to focus,

Unless in rage.

 

Part 3-

Ripping wind,

Harsh environment,

Mirror of the man’s soul,

In a ravine,

Covered with snow,

The ruler sits with men,

Lost in the blizzard,

Crying for help,

Though he makes no sound,

What is the use?

He is ready to die,

How much better than living?

He accepts it with closed eyes,

Ready for the emptiness to end.

Just then, they hear a noise,

Music to hear,

Light bursts forth,

Triumphant and glowing,

Sheep farmers appear,

Yet that is not what the dark ruler sees,

His face melts,

As does the ice beneath her feet.

No more grimaced expression,

Does he bare,

Relief and relaxed lines,

Harsh and rough complexion,

Flee from his appearance.

Men and order,

Saved and restored,

Only, the one truly saved,

Trembles when he sees her,

What to say, what to do?

Her she is,

A blameless woman,

Confident in gaze,

Happy to see them,

Happy to see him!

Daughter of a shepherd,

Goddess of fairness,

He is softened,

Welcomed into a warm home,

Brought to table,

Brought to life.

Cameo H.

Copyright of the poem is MINE.