Sunday, April 27, 2008


For some years I worked in the protection industry, never did things get any better, only worse. Like many in my former line of work, I lost heart in what I was doing, and eventually left, but while I was out there standing in the breach I penned a few lines. Here are two more poems for your perusal:

The world lays dark
enshrouded by her silky veil
the snowy plains are a contrast stark
and winter ghosts visit from beyond the pale

I stand here on watch
as I have stood so often before
a sole sentinel against evil
and menace appears beyond a farthest shore
so I guard, by my commanders will

In camouflage are evil forces
appear not as foe, but friend
and God knows how deep the rot courses
it's the blade crossing your throat at the end

And I wonder, when will the sun rise
from the horizon do the rays creep
or is it my imagination, is it all lies
does my watch never end, can I never sleep

Battles fought, wars are won
peace a forgotten dream
or still like a moon beam
broken by waves on an ocean

No more, late in the night
do things unknown go bump
or falling, awake, with a thump
like from out the sky a kite

When a civilization falls
and civilian government fails
storms of ages sweep in gales
and breaks down societal walls

A doom foreseen, inevitable
fated, unavoidable, destiny
night falls darker than ebony
a Rover's life is considered stable

Barbarians in the walled city
soldiers on the walls
as the city falls
leave their post, spare no pity

Terror stalks the streets
when shadows fall
and nightmares do call
from the jaws of victory, snatched defeats

The city elders corrupted
like kings with no honor
the country is a goner
for gates opened by those corrupted
by treachery from within
when good is thought a sin

It is said that an author can only write well, about that which he knows, or sees. It truly is a shame that this is how I have seen the world, for if what I have seen is true, and not merely warped by my own point of view, then we are in deep trouble. It would seem that even level headed people can see things this way now, not merely the fanatics of a gone by age, ranting about the end being near.

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