Once a killer, a soldier; a regular mercenary.
His talents were obviously not to be taken lightly. His eyes
let you know he wasn’t joking when he spoke of his enemies.
They were all dead now, but still very much alive in his head.
...
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This poem leaves me feeling immeasurably sad. There should be something uplifting about a man of war, a killer laying down his arms and taking up the pen, but in the context of this poem, it just feels tragic. Excellent work.
Hi love your poems i knew 2 dis site pleez comment mine and add me az your friend
Agree with T McH below, there's a 'poetic' irony in the first comment....great writing Ted!