Resurrection of My Dead Captain

The tears of friends
spilled on the ashes
of your burned and crumpled self
have permeated all the woes
that laid you low
gave rise to a new and stronger you
to combat as long
as you shall live
all those who do ye wrong.
Look not back in the raging anger
nor in depths of dire despair –
NOT all in love and war is fair –

Do not give in to their demands
before in strength you take our hands –
before you take that mighty leap
again, become that ashen heap.




Poetry by NotaDeadPoet
Read 923 times
Written on 2007-04-11 at 19:19

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