Lullaby To An Old Enemy
What is this river I see before me?
The natives tell me is the great sea of old
That old sea on which many battles have been fought
And many precious lives lost
Lost to untimely graves to return no more
Many stories grandpa did tell me
For a great sailor he was and a soldier as well
Defending our land on the deadly waters
When I am sixteen shall I take to his works
To fight both sea and man
Or with the King’s daughter will I sit and watch it
To sing lullaby to an old enemy
My heart seeks warmth but my pride battle
What would I do?
That I would do, I do not know
poem by Nicholas Boateng
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Related quotes
Soldier
The soldier, he has many battle scars.
But there's only a few, others can see.
The wounds, they did not kill him,
They made him who he was called to be.
Although some of his battles were easy,
Through each of his battles he died.
The pieces, which were his true enemy.
Were the pieces that did not survive.
When the soldier, he goes into battle,
He must know who his enemies are.
They are the ones that would harm another,
And make the soldier, seem like he, was the star.
It is only once you discover the enemy,
The march to victory, then can begin.
For the war that the soldier is fighting.
Is the battle he fights from within.
In each of us there is a soldier.
And each day, we fight the good fight.
For the ones who walk into victory,
Are the ones who find their true light.
poem by Ryan Lee Morris
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The Patriot Returns
Battered and broken I return to you
My time spent in battle is finally through
My country served proudly, I stood the test
I fought side by side with our nations best
I am A soldier, A patriot, true to the cause
My American heart beats without pause
Any time any place any where
This soldier will stand tall and be there
I love my country and will protect her at all cost
I fight for the old, the young, the weak and the lost
I fight for an ideal that is greater than I
I don’t complain, or whine or ask why
But for the time being I am home with you
My duty served my task is thru
But I’ll be watching, over there and over here
And I’ll be putting a hand to my ear
For if ever this soldier is again called to fight
I’ll lace up my boots and do what’s right
Look out world the Devil Dogs are on hand
Ready to fight in the air, on the sea or on land
poem by James Waters
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He Entered Into Battle With A Blunt Edged Sword
He entered into battle with a blunt edged sword,
But he did not know quite why.
His sword selection was done without motive,
To battle and kill his fellow man.
So subconsciously he picked out this sword.
This sword not of this world, not out to cut to bleed.
But this innocent man didn't wish to realize,
What prize he would pay.
In midst of this battle, recieving the swiftest,
Blows from his enemy,
This soldier just kept getting hurt.
Five, six and seven more blows made him hit back,
This soldier proudly used his blunt sword,
Till his nemesis bearing a razor sharp one,
Came along and challenged the already fallen one,
Who gave a swift plunge into his enemy's heart.
But the enemy did not stagger or fall.
Neither did the soldier with the blunt sword.
This soldier's enemy left the battleground,
When he saw that the one with the blunt sword,
Knew all along the possibility of his death.
Still he fought, so he himself could die,
Which the other soldier was saddened by that man's stance.
He told that man, 'if we all fought battles with a blunt
sword,
Then we would all truly win,
For the battleground would know no mortality.
He further told him, 'because of you, your side
Truly wins. But so does our.
We love you,
Blunt edged sword soldier man.'
poem by Vera Sidhwa
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The Gash
Is that gash in your leg
Really why you have stopped?
?Cause I've noticed all the others
Though they're gashed, they're still going
?Cause I feel like the real reason
That you're quitting, that you're admitting
That you've lost all the will to battle on
Will the fight for our sanity
Be the fight of our lives?
Now that we've lost all the reasons
That we thought that we had
Still the battle that we're in
Rages on till the end
With explosions, wounds are open
Sights and smells, eyes and noses
But the thought that went unspoken
Was understanding that you're broken
Still the last volunteer battles on
Battles on
Battles on
song performed by by Flaming Lips
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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We As Soldiers
They was not born onto this world
to fight a war and lose their lives.
But they did fight a war, and did lose their lives
And it was done to protect you and I.
Now you may think of it as insignificant
Because it is not a family member or friend
But if they died defending your liberties
Then they are family and friends
And can not be with you till the end.
It was that soldier who was on land
Air, or the sea, defending your
rights so that you can be free.
Free to have the freedom of speech
And voice your opinion and beliefs.
And like all things, there is a price
That we must pay for that privilege.
It may be a lost arm, or leg, or an eye
But don’t worry they’ll get by.
They have the perseverance of their convictions
And will not let anything stand in their way
And if it means being in a foxhole, then
That is where they’ll stay.
poem by Louis Rams
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What Was Lost
I SING what was lost and dread what was won,
I walk in a battle fought over again,
My king a lost king, and lost soldiers my men;
Feet to the Rising and Setting may run,
They always beat on the same small stone.
poem by William Butler Yeats
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A Fight On Their Hands
sorcerors and witches
gather round in great numbers
come together from near and far
to get ready for battle
for a friend of their's
is in great peril
and needs their help right now
for a war is brewing
the vampires and werewolves
are getting restless too
for they don't want their friends
to lose this fight
so they all come together
to make a stand
against an enemy
that only one has seen
all of these beings
are putting their strength together
for they all know
that they have a fight on their hands
normally you wouldn't see
vampires and werewolves
in the company of such great
sorcerors and witches
but the times call for extreme
measures as they come together
allies to the bitter end
all to save their one mortal friend
they feel a storm
gathering in the distance
as the enemy
prepares their troops for the battle
a fight awaits them
where many will be lost
but with determination
and sheer fighting will power
they know that they will survive
for they won't let no one
destroy the one person
that believes in them
for that person has been
their mentor and friend
like a father or brother to some
and they would lay down their lives for him
so the enemies best beware
for unbeknownst to them
these great beings of myth and lore
will be willing to give them
a fight they will never forget
poem by Grace Hays
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Kargil Warfare
Words shall never describe
what a soldier is
with a family brave
loosing in wars
all they have
yet smiling to the nation's pride
such is what a soldier is
for when they came with guns and arms
the soldier faced it all
heads held high
for the nation
he was ready to die
such is the sacrifice a soldier makes
and yes!
words shall never describe
what a soldier is
Kargil was the place
this time the fight was for mother land
the soldier could not be held
he marched
without fear
smoke rose high
there on the dusty land
fought the soldier
with no fear of death
he knew beneath
he had to win
and yes he did
his land he saved
but lost many his friends
and we salute
bow our head
for our words shall never describe
what a soldier is.
poem by Areena Arora
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The King Will Return
They were attacked by surprise
In the middle of the night
They didnt stand a single chance
A single chance to fight
After the battle they gathered around the king
And they had never seen that man so sad
Im riding out to get those men
Who hurt my people bad, so bad
The king will return
With gold in his hand
The castle will burn
In the enemy land
And be will save our people
When two springs had passed a messanger
Came down the track
He said that he had heard great news
The king is coming back
Oh the time he was gone
They suffered bad in misery
Tehy didnt know the way
Everyone was shouting
Save our kingdom now
They suffered bad in pain
The time he was away
But maybe now they could survive
Now they could survive
When the king came down the hill
To his people and his land
There were many tears
That touched the ground
And made marks in the sand
Yes now they could start all over again
And live in peace throughout time
Everyone was shouting
When the king came down the hill
The king is returning with gold in his hand
The castle is burning
In the enemy land
The king is...
song performed by by Europe
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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And I Thank You...
A young soldier takes a deep breath before battle,
Now millions of miles away from the golden plains and the cattle,
Fearing for his life, and another battle loss,
He closes his eyes, and grips tight on his golden cross.
The sergeant yells, and he gets into line,
The troop marches to the battlefield, early morning, about nine,
With sweat running down their faces, and dirt in their hair,
The men look to the sky, and say a silent prayer.
A grenade explodes and the troop scurries on the run,
The young soldier hides in a foxhole, griping onto his gun,
He pops up, but too much smoke he can’t see,
Squinting as hard as he can to find the enemy.
The day is gone, and the young soldier still holds his gun to his shoulder,
Bruised and battered, he feels the night become colder,
As he looks to his left, he wants to break down and cry,
Because he had to watch his best friend get shot, and then he died.
The stale scent of tragedy in the air hovers,
Because this young soldier lost many of his band of brothers,
And now the enemy has fallen back with a retreat,
Because they now know that they have been beat.
You fought for the red, white, and blue,
And for this I greatly thank you,
You fought to allow me to speak my mind freely behind this ballpoint pen,
So once again I thank you, my hero, my dear veteran.
poem by Ryan McNicholas
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Brave Little Soldier
Im a brave little soldier
I must be bold and strong
A brave little soldier
And I must carry on
Im a brave little soldier
A brave little soldier
Im a brave little soldier
I must fight, I must win
Im a brave little soldier
Through hell and back again
Im a brave little soldier
A brave little soldier
Per rum, pum, pum
Per rum, pum, pum
Per rum, pum, pum, pum, pum
Ye though I am marching through the valley filled with fear
My steps are sure and sturdy and my aim is straight and clear
The enemy is stalking me just waiting for the kill
Like david slewed galiath
I will claim this battle field
Im a brave little soldier
I must do what I can
Im a brave little soldier
And I must take a stand
Im a brave little soldier
A brave little soldier
Marching, marching onward
Searching out the light of truth
I did not start the war
But its a battle I cant lose
Faith will be my armor
And love my sword and shield
I must defeat the enemy
I will, I will, I will
A brave little soldier
I must be bold and strong
A brave little soldier
And I must carry on
A brave little soldier
A brave little soldier
Im a brave little soldier
A brave little soldier
Brave, little soldier
song performed by by Dolly Parton
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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A Weary Soldier
Tired eyes watch the weary reflection of the soldier,
who walks without pride or judgment,
and fears none but God.
When he takes up a duty,
he does not run away or hide,
but goes with twice the effort.
The cross that beats upon his chest,
as he runs down the path to victory,
encourages this weary soldier to run with the speed of a cheetah.
The chain that bears the weight of his cross,
as he goes into battle for the weak,
encourages this weary soldier to fight with the power of a lion.
The taunts and jeers that come against the cross,
as he marches in between battles,
remind this weary soldier to take pride in none but God,
and the words of Jesus echo in his mind,
'Father forgive them for they know not what they do...'
poem by Amber Glistener
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A Soldiers Family
Today we lost another soldier, I do not know
His/her name.
Today we lost a soldier, I don’t know
From whence he/she came.
This was a soldier fighting in a war
As so many other soldiers had done this before.
It matters not what country the soldier is from.
For they no longer fight for country, but for each other.
All beliefs, religions, and honors are blown in the wind.
For war is not a joy, it is but a sin.
Once the soldier is gone, the family must live to carry on.
Wondering if it’s all been in vain
And if there was anything to gain.
The pains and the memories the families must bear
And with each other these they share.
A smile, a joke, a laughter, or two
These were the things they shared with you.
A love story or a relationship gone bad
These were the things that made them happy or sad.
A mother who inwardly cries
For it is so hard to say good-bye.
Nine months in her stomach, then tending
And caring for them and watching the child grow
This is what every mother knows.
A soldiers life is lost, but it’s not just any soldier you see
For this is the one that came from the father and me.
Yes! My child was a soldier and on the battle front they died
Trying to protect the freedom for you and I.
But let us mourn for all soldiers, for they are comrades
Who fought side by side, until the moment that they died.
It matters not if they are classified as the enemy
Death on all sides, there are so many.
They cry for their children, the same as we
And their hearts they do bleed.
If we as parents and family would be united as one
We would have these governments” under our gun”.
Until that day- we will always be “ a soldiers family”.
poem by Louis Rams
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Indigenous people
Indigenous people
Live their lives
Unknown, unsure
To a land no longer ours
Lost in wars
Of long ago
Many of us
Cultures no more
We live in societies
Torn from the past
It breeds in us all
A culture no more
We fight our own doubts
About cultures lost
Who are we really?
Natives of this land
I speak for those
Who believe in their dreams?
Only to learn
We are heathens of old
Land once belonged
To the natives of this world
Now it belongs to a system
That is tainted with wars
The wild fields of old
Live on in our dreams
Dreams that our forefathers bared
I'm a native, a warrior
Born of this land
I fight for the freedom
To be indigenous and free
I call forth my forefathers
To claim to all whom I am
An indigenous person
Who fights to be free?
poem by Kaila George
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We Battle To See Acts Of Love
You can battle any illness you wish...
But,
Battle with the act of love.
You can fill you mind with terrorists...
That keep your fears endearing.
But the fact your battles fought have no love.
And don't you know that you...
The giving up of anything,
Will return.
So why not battle with the act of love.
Burdens carried on one's back,
Seem to be attached...
'Cause they don't do their,
Battles with love.
Those who pick their battles,
Pick their battles without facts.
'Cause many have no protected love.
If there is love,
There is a battle...
But the battle can be won,
With a love that's felt in everyone.
Those who pick their battles,
Pick their battles without facts.
'Cause many have no protected love.
You can battle any illness you wish...
But,
Battle with the act of love.
You can battle any illness you wish...
But,
Battle with the act of love.
Those who pick their battles,
Pick their battles without facts.
'Cause many have no protected love.
Those who pick their battles,
Pick their battles without facts.
'Cause many have no protected love.
If we pick our battles,
We must be matter of fact....
That we battle to see acts of love.
We battle to see acts of love.
Let's say we do it...
That we battle to see acts of love!
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
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My Almighty Comes To Defend With A Rescue
No more fighting battles.
No more fighting battles.
No more fighting battles from a saddle I no longer sit!
No more fighting battles.
No more fighting battles.
No more fighting battles from a saddle I no longer sit!
No more fighting battles.
No more fighting battles.
I...
Do believe,
My Creator has a plan for me.
Without those battles,
Fought straddled to a saddle.
And I don't,
Fight any battle
Strapped high on any saddle.
No I don't,
Fight any battle
Strapped high on any saddle.
My Almighty comes,
To defend
With a rescue.
And to fight my battles.
Those battles fought from saddles.
My Almighty comes,
To defend
With a rescue.
And to fight my battles.
Those battles fought from saddles.
No more fighting battles.
No more fighting battles.
No more fighting battles from a saddle I no longer sit!
No more fighting battles.
No more fighting battles.
No more fighting battles from a saddle I no longer sit!
No more fighting battles.
No more fighting battles.
My Almighty comes,
To defend
With a rescue.
And to fight my battles.
Those battles fought from saddles.
My Almighty comes,
To defend
With a rescue.
And to fight my battles.
Those battles fought from saddles.
My Almighty comes,
To defend
With a rescue.
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
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The Matriarchs
The greatest battles since days of old,
We hear the stories now and then,
As down the centuries their echoes are told.
They're fought by the mothers of men.
The strongest armour their truth will pierce,
A mother's love raised to such height,
That there's nothing exists on earth so fierce.
For him to the death she will fight.
With no hesitation, she will strike his foe,
With him standing next to her tall.
She will teach him to exact justice, as through life they go.
For to balance situations, one and all.
Then she stands back in pride with a smile,
As he forward in battle steps out.
She's taught him to always go just one more mile,
For his foe to seek and rout out.
She'll always be there, on each level exist
For no warrior is e'er so strong.
She will guide his way forward through life's every twist,
Whatever it takes, or how long.
So please never doubt the stories you've heard.
The truth is the same now as then.
The greatest battles there are in this world,
Are fought by the mothers of men!
poem by Rosi Caswell
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A Sonnet to the Wounded Warriors
I Once Was A Warrior
A Sonnet to the Wounded Warriors
I once was a warrior, but now today,
My battlefields are not so far away.
The foe that I face have no weapons of might,
Anxiety and worry are the enemy I fight.
I once was a soldier, but now I sit,
No longer in a body that’s lean and fit.
No greater cause, no more fields of glory,
The guns are now silent, no friends, no war stories.
I once was a sailor, but now I lay,
Trapped in my body in bed all day.
As I watch the new men go off to war,
I will never again sail to distant shores.
I once was an airman, the sky my domain,
But today just the memory is all that remains.
As I gaze out my window in the dark of the night,
Knowing I never again will take flight.
I am a Marine, and I always will be,
Broken, not bowed, though my eyes cannot see.
The hospital halls now the trails that I take,
The pain that’s inside, the new enemy I face.
I once was a warrior, but now today,
My battlefields are not so far away.
The foe that I face, I face in my home,
And my greatest of battles I must face alone.
1/6/05
poem by Gary Bryson
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The dance of the bonfire
Ah the dance around the flames,
Providing warmth and glee,
As we hold out our hands till day,
We drink our mead,
And dance the maypole at day,
We fight for our endless right,
To celebrate the fire festival,
As we dance and win the fight,
Defending our great flame,
The horde tries to stop us now,
But that will be their doom,
We won the battle and the flame is safe,
And we return to our mead,
Now the flame is safe once again,
We dance around it once again.
poem by Nicholas Spandrel
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I Lost Her
I lost her...
I lost her smile,
I lost her soft glance,
I lost her loving voice,
I lost her gentle touch,
I lost her warmth,
I lost her pride,
I lost her,
I just lost her in every way.
Though I miss her so much, I have lost her a lot.
(To Mom)
poem by Mirah Adi Kusmarini Putra
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