A peculiar send-off this,
No guns blazing, trumpets none,
A peculiar army this,
Men carved out of foolish boys,
Bred together, taught together,
But leaving for battle on different fronts,
On distant shores…
Some leave early, some not so,
And some stay back, and grumble…
Noble deeds await,
And titles, and the silver shine…
And the shadows they leave,
Are shades that linger,
A peculiar send-off this,
The past buries the future.
A peculiar send-off this,
No confessions made, none whatsoever,
Secrets padlocked in bedroom closets,
Left to rot and wander…
A peculiar send-off this,
Dried eyes and aching texts,
Where a bashful charlatan,
Bids farewell to a few good men.
Be drunk with something, always!
3 comments:
True we are leaving for different shores , true there are no guns blazing , true there was so much to share yet no time to spare ; but we do whatever the Unforeseen holds for us - anyone may not know what we do - "Ours but to do and die , Ours not to reason why " ; we are the heroes whose deeds hide inside our minds and the shadows of anonymity yet we are nonetheless HEROES!
To the bashful charlatan...
Your write again succeeded in filling me out,
All but wonder, all but clout!
A form of unknown, hindered past
Did hug my inside, gnawed to the last
And yet, there was something eternally new
Infinite glory, dazzle and hue
That pounced over me at times of need
And blew my grief in a fine swoosh of weed;
Which caught my teary eyes, as I looked up
Was your face, full of joy, shone in a cup!
I wish, friend, therefore, be with me,
In life and death, let "as it is" it be,
In quaint pastures, dales and hills,
In warm summer afternoons, behind the gristmills,
Let your words fill my void time and again
In the dark doomed dusk ahead, be my boatswain...
awesome dude!
Post a Comment