Anthem for a Doomed YouthA Poem by Emily ElizabethThe guns are still sounding.
Eighty years between us, and, We both seem to understand That, if fate lays down a deadly bet, We become their marionettes Dancing in tune to their orders That divide and split our crumbled borders. No chiming bells for our immersive fate. For us, no flaming hells or pearly gates. Just the sound of greats and guns and rhyme, That echo unjust from another time. The blood still spills ‘til the streets run red And yet guns, not poppies, grow instead. More generations of doomed youth, Angry, betrayed and uncouth. Enact a sordid victory parade through my streets Whose roads are trampled by angry feet. I wonder, What you thought the future would bring? A cease to war, an eternal spring? Alas, our battles are a tad different, yes, But fallen friends still don’t rest It seems that wherever trumpets sound Both you and I spring up from solid ground.
© 2008 Emily ElizabethAuthor's Note
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Added on October 1, 2008Last Updated on October 6, 2008 AuthorEmily ElizabethUnited KingdomAboutHe drew a circle that shut me out -- Heretic, rebel, a thing to flout. .. more..Writing
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