Proud!

She stood sixteen hands proud and strong

grey with black mane

a young horse just arrived from England

fresh and innocent

from the safety of home to the battle front

taken by the army

to carry the Captain upon her sturdy back

heading the attack!

 

Far from her master who she knew from birth

the open fields to roam

into the bloodbath of war of mud and death

a multitude of animals

keeping the war machine in constant motion

dying with the soldiers

interacting in human conflicts had no choice

no rights or voice!

 

This was a time of man and animals integrating

shown much kindness

even more brutality in of war of young lives lost

horses worked mercilessly

until they fell with the soldiers the proud mare

was tough and stubborn

wanting to be home from those she was taken

for so many were forsaken!

 

After this barbaric war had finally come to an end

there were eight million

horses mules and donkeys killed in their service

to assist perpetual greed

many were sold for meat but thankfully thousands

came back to blighty

the proud mare whose name was Belle was saved

her bravery praised!

 

Bruised and scared she came returned to the farm

she loved and knew

to open spaces free from noise and destruction

shells and shrapnel

the army officer to came home and kept in touch

both never to forget

those times of depravity and this futile carnage

of mans endless rage!

 

Belle lived happily until she succumbed to age!

 

#TheFoureyedPoet.

 

 

 

 

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Before The Nation!

Before the nation many have volunteered

to join military forces

fighting for Queen and country in wars

proud to serve until death

facing many different enemies they went

with honour and good intent!

 

Politicians controlled them like chess pawns

dispensable in action

no thought for precious loyal fighting men

serving in appalling conditions

families waiting in constant concern at home

as into the abyss they roam!

 

There with comrades violence all around

often with devastating odds

campaigns of battle rage on into infinity

ravaging the once innocent

becoming oblivious in time to the carnage

as the spirit fills with rage!

 

Exhausted their courage can never be denied

against all odds heads held high with pride!

 

The Foureyed Poet.

 

 

 

 

 

Its said!

Its said there are ghosts and spirits of the dead

demons to roam here unseen

mediums can converse with the other side

many say they have seen them

there are those who have actually been attacked

honestly that’s a fact!

 

Large scratches often deep and bleeding just appear

also pushed down the stairs

temperatures dropping low to make rooms icy cold

so many cases of witnesses

claiming it is real voice recordings of spirits talking

all around them stalking!

 

Sceptics claim most do have rational explanations

being natural effects of our society

buildings settling shadows created by lighting effects

imagination of an active mind

yet much cannot be explained in any lucid way

this our fears do not allay!

 

So much we do not understand even experts agree

maybe what some sensitives see

is real amongst the trickery and illusions displayed

there is unexplained phenomena

are there other residents on earth besides us here

that occasionally to us appear?

 

Have families really seen their passed relatives

can there be demons

the questions and lack of real answers stimulate

those many investigators

being out there seeking the facts from superstition

that really is an exciting mission!

 

The Foureyed Poet.

 

 

Afraid!

The woman was so completely afraid

she just wanted to die

her nerves now completely frayed

no longer tears to cry

the family she loved had expired

exhausted and tired!

 

One other was here in this residence

the son she had born

not normal but brooding and intense

the happiness torn

against his cunning they had no chance

as on each he did advance!

 

He saw no love nor for them any affection

void of  any emotion

like an animal caged he had no connection

by instinct not devotion

thought of them purely as his prey to stalk

on all four limbs did walk!

 

Had broken free from his shackles and prison

the beast began to roam

the smell of blood within in him his lust risen

this place a lair not home

his mother was afraid she being the last alive

had lost the will to survive!

 

Could not let her son destroy anybody outside

knew him she had to kill

it had to be done from him no longer could hide

this last act had to fulfill

sat in the nursery with her son had been born

feeling alone scared and forlorn!

 

That moment arrived sensing he was getting  near

a growl not a human sound

an odor of putrefied flesh made her task more clear

for she had been found

as the beast lunged for her body the knife she held

pierced its chest the son felled!

 

Silence for the mother lay crushed under the weight

afraid no more the monster defeated

none left to tell the frightening tale of fear and hate

or the horrors to be repeated

until one day a distant cousin knocked on the door

regretting that move for sure!

 

The Foureyed Poet.

 

ted state

On Haunted Ground!

Civil wars must leave such terrible scars

upon a nations memories

what influence on future generations

embedded in their culture

from across the big pond does it exist

those ghosts that persist?

 

On haunted ground do their spirits roam

three hunters wanted to see

out onto the battlefields dared venture

over vast silent earth

respectful of those lives now long passed

and all remnants now masked!

 

Setting their feet upon these acres of green

to find out for themselves

if they could communicate with soldiers gone

delicately on graves to tread

wandering in darkness and the atmosphere

would they want to appear?

 

Electronic equipment at hand ready to be used

to capture any paranormal events

deep sadness now consumed their open minds

as sounds of gunfire was heard

cannons and muskets echoed across the fields

how many times had soldiers yield!

 

There was nobody else to cause those sounds

in that eerie chilling stillness

asking boldly on which side had  they fought

on the recorder a voice was caught

saying confederate in a voice rasping and low

who it was they could not know!

 

The dawn broke and the three were exhausted

leaving they were sure with proof

that in these old fields of many bloody battles

there unresting spirits existed

seeking that rest that had long been denied

but also a sense of pride!

 

The Foureyed Poet.

Alleyway!

Down the litter strewn alleyway of the city

the fifteen year old scavenged.

Trying find anything to eat to stay alive

not wanting anybody’s pity.

She had run away from an abusive home

on the streets to roam!

 

Still hard here having to fend for herself

but better than how she’d lived.

Dangers lurked in the basement world

sadly felt this was safer.

Her home now a disused office block

her possessions  in a  sock.

 

Sometimes stealing to get enough to eat

even selling her body!

Existing never shown love or decency

closing her mind to hope!

Until one day a rich girl disappeared

and foul play was feared.

 

Entering the alleyway her clothes soiled

and into the path of Cindy.

Two contrasting teenagers found a bond

this no money could achieve.

Guiding her new friend to a safer place

neither now lost without a trace!

 

Helped by compassion of a friend who cared

for a better future she prepared!

 

Cindy’s life changed when she met a loving family.

 

The Foureyed Poet.

Published in: on 28/03/2013 at 14:22  Comments (1)  
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