My blaster plays a melody,
Complementing the harmony,
Harmony, that brings the rain,
Harmony that brings the pain.
Battle burns with a blazing fire,
Contrasting my brother’s attire,
Shifting on the protective shield,
Modulating in the battlefield.
The quartet is playing a song,
To those that did too many wrong,
To those with a wrong claim,
We bring the rain.
Marching, song in our throat,
Remembering those that fought,
Apocalypse is creeping near,
My brothers – have no fear.
Memories forgotten, utterly lost,
I don’t ask for what is the cost,
The cost of the lives given in vain,
We avenge, we bring the rain.
Seriously now. This is my second poem. I am not that good at putting verses together and making a wonderful picture like the rest of you do, so this is a little homage to you poets.
Stories under the Like button.