This is the end of all we know
Nothing will be the same and so
We must prepare for what is to come
Prepare even though it is doubted by some
...
This here what I behold
The blood and the body
Is it our Christ of old?
Or yet one other tormented soul?
...
I remember once upon a time
When skys were blue and grass was lime
Our children and laughed and all were pleased
To live in a world that wasn’t diseased
...
I've moved around a lot in my life (my father was in the armed forces so we kind of had to) and I've met a large variety of people most of whom made my life akin to a living hell (bullies, they just never leave you be) I have plans to be involved in the publishing business after my english degree at either Edinburgh University or Stirling University. I wrote my first poem (Dove) when I was 13 years old and didn't write another until a few months before my 16th birthday. I am now approaching my 17th birthday and feel I have written a reasonable amount of poetry whilst still managing to pass all my exams. I am very fond of the poems I write (even if I do think some are downright awful) and affectionatly refer to them as 'my babies')
Sweet Revolution
This is the end of all we know
Nothing will be the same and so
We must prepare for what is to come
Prepare even though it is doubted by some
The sun will set on the old world this night
And will rise on the new with great height
Blood will stain the streets for this
Then boil in the heat of the sun with a hiss
For all to survive is my dearest wish
To see once again the cross and fish
But fearfully watching the legion now
To make my wish true I know not how
In years from now will this stay?
This brutality where crushed hopes now lay
The defacing of all we know and adored
For some money we eagerly hoard
The revolution for the common man
Is meant to be sweet in it’s life span
There is a bitter taste though in my mouth
I who watched with tear-filled eyes from the south
This horror and terror of our age
Another massacre on history’s page
Bitterness and hate spawned glory
Jealousy and spite for our sweet revolution