A re-write of a nightmare I once had. It was a very bad nightmare and left its mark. Never before had I felt so helpless as I did in my dream, staring at my love knowing there was nothing I could do to save her, though I tried my hardest.
One man to defend a house of people,
one man versus innumerable foes.
The odds are impossible,
yet he has to succeed.
He MUST succeed.
He has to protect the one he loves.
Wave after wave of soldiers wash over the house,
and time after time break against the lone gunner;
but with each wave they gain ground.
The lone defender is concerned,
time is running out along with the ammunition.
Still he fires, round after round,
heat radiating from the barrel,
the smoke burning his eyes,
the sound deafening him.
Soon the gunfire stops,
the last round spent.
Yet he cannot give up,
he MUST not give up.
He has to protect the one he loves.
As troops converge on the house,
like a tide of black,
he gathers his courage, picks up his knife
and anxiously waits by the door.
Thoughts begin to race through his head,
but as soon as this moment of reflection starts,
it ends abruptly.
As the soldiers open the door,
his courage wavers for a moment.
Staring at all those foes
he knows he will not win,
but he has to try.
He MUST try.
He has to protect the one he loves.
He runs at them with implicit rage,
oblivious to pain,
mind focused on the task at hand.
Shocked by his initial charge,
he initially succeeds in pushing them back.
But the numbers keep increasing,
it seems as though for every one he strikes down
three more arrive to take it's place.
Pushed beyond his limits
he starts to falter
and one soldier slips past and runs to the back room.
The room where his love is.
He turns to stop the soldier
but a sharp pain rips through his back,
and he knew at once he had been stabbed.
As he falls to the ground
he knows he can't surrender,
he must keep on.
He MUST endure.
He has to protect the one he loves.
He manages to get up and toss his last grenade,
diving into the hall.
He runs toward the back room, kicking down the door,
and sees the soldier, knife drawn.
With no time to think
and with a primal rage
he tackles the soldier,
driving him out the window.
He turns around,
adrenaline flowing, heart racing,
hoping he was not too late to save his love.
But upon the completion of his turn
what he saw chilled him to the bone
and filled his heart with dread.
He almost fell to his knees at the sight.
His love had been cut across her neck.
He ran to her to try and help her,
but there was nothing to be done.
He took her in his arms
and told her it would be ok,
but he could tell she wouldn't last long.
As she slowly sank to the floor,
tears pouring from his eyes,
he went down with her.
He was oblivious to the outside world.
How could he focus on that
when his world was falling apart in his arms?
He held on to her,
blood running onto his shirt,
and the tears kept coming.
As she was about to breathe her last,
he held her close,
brushed the hair from her face,
looked into her wide, fearful eyes
and whispered lovingly into her ear
with all his being and soul
the three words that mean the most;
"I love you."
Poetry by Michael G
Read 1100 times
Written on 2007-01-03 at 00:43
Tags Love Dream
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Love's Last Stand
One man.One man to defend a house of people,
one man versus innumerable foes.
The odds are impossible,
yet he has to succeed.
He MUST succeed.
He has to protect the one he loves.
Wave after wave of soldiers wash over the house,
and time after time break against the lone gunner;
but with each wave they gain ground.
The lone defender is concerned,
time is running out along with the ammunition.
Still he fires, round after round,
heat radiating from the barrel,
the smoke burning his eyes,
the sound deafening him.
Soon the gunfire stops,
the last round spent.
Yet he cannot give up,
he MUST not give up.
He has to protect the one he loves.
As troops converge on the house,
like a tide of black,
he gathers his courage, picks up his knife
and anxiously waits by the door.
Thoughts begin to race through his head,
but as soon as this moment of reflection starts,
it ends abruptly.
As the soldiers open the door,
his courage wavers for a moment.
Staring at all those foes
he knows he will not win,
but he has to try.
He MUST try.
He has to protect the one he loves.
He runs at them with implicit rage,
oblivious to pain,
mind focused on the task at hand.
Shocked by his initial charge,
he initially succeeds in pushing them back.
But the numbers keep increasing,
it seems as though for every one he strikes down
three more arrive to take it's place.
Pushed beyond his limits
he starts to falter
and one soldier slips past and runs to the back room.
The room where his love is.
He turns to stop the soldier
but a sharp pain rips through his back,
and he knew at once he had been stabbed.
As he falls to the ground
he knows he can't surrender,
he must keep on.
He MUST endure.
He has to protect the one he loves.
He manages to get up and toss his last grenade,
diving into the hall.
He runs toward the back room, kicking down the door,
and sees the soldier, knife drawn.
With no time to think
and with a primal rage
he tackles the soldier,
driving him out the window.
He turns around,
adrenaline flowing, heart racing,
hoping he was not too late to save his love.
But upon the completion of his turn
what he saw chilled him to the bone
and filled his heart with dread.
He almost fell to his knees at the sight.
His love had been cut across her neck.
He ran to her to try and help her,
but there was nothing to be done.
He took her in his arms
and told her it would be ok,
but he could tell she wouldn't last long.
As she slowly sank to the floor,
tears pouring from his eyes,
he went down with her.
He was oblivious to the outside world.
How could he focus on that
when his world was falling apart in his arms?
He held on to her,
blood running onto his shirt,
and the tears kept coming.
As she was about to breathe her last,
he held her close,
brushed the hair from her face,
looked into her wide, fearful eyes
and whispered lovingly into her ear
with all his being and soul
the three words that mean the most;
"I love you."
Poetry by Michael G
Read 1100 times
Written on 2007-01-03 at 00:43
Tags Love Dream
Save as a bookmark (requires login) Write a comment (requires login) Send as email (requires login) Print text
