Death, save me from War

A poem about war in which the door symbolizes the dwelling of Death. It's divided into two parts, and then the last two lines stand alone.

It’s black, it’s dark, I look away,

I will not pass the door today.

I close my eyes, I clutch my heart,

I hold my breath and wait the start.

For fear is strong and lingers long,

In spaces void of life or song.

 

In places where we don’t believe,

Our fears they dance and never leave.

And grieve we do but choose to stay,

For fear has snatched our hope away.

And Dark he plays his silly games,

Which steal our hearts and lungs and names.

 

We cannot breathe, we cannot breathe,

We’re frightened as the darkness seethes.

We cannot live, we cannot live,

Our hearts refuse us life to give.

Who are we now, why are we here?

Our names are stolen by our fears.

 

We care not for life or even love,

For War has mocked us from above.

He’s numbed our souls until at last,

We care no more for joys from past.

We simply wait outside the door,

For Death to let us in from War.

 

 

I hear a whistle in the air,

The war is there, the war is there.

A burst of light, the sound of fear,

The war is here, the war is here.

Amidst the trenches cold with mud,

We lie in stenches old with blood.

 

The door is Death, I know him well,

We met for tea at Martha’s Dell.

We sat and talked of lighter days,

Amidst the poplars and the bays.

And now he holds me in his arms,

And strokes my hair with welcome charms.

 

Alas! and now I hear the knells,

Of men who fell beneath the shells.

Comrades, friends! I hear my name!

The sound is sweet as Paris’ dame.

I fear no more the darkened door,

For Death and I have set our score.

 

It’s black, it’s dark, I turn around,

I pass the door without a sound.

My eyes are wide, my heart is still,

I have no breath to hold or fill.

We’ve played our part, but now the door

Is open and we fight no more.

 

 

At last we sleep and dream of life!

No more we wake and wish for death.

Author's Note

I've been reading All Quiet on the Western Front and watching too many Band of Brothers episodes.

Reviews

[Sweet & Tender Hooligan]

A fascinating and powerful piece. The first half of the poem and the last two lines stand out for me. The wording is clear and lyrical, which heightens the intensity of love, life and death within your poem.

[Kesav Easwaran]

A beautifully crafted poem on the darkness, as death, that wars bring to mankind. True, inside the 'door' there is no fight. An eloquent piece. Liked

[The Scholar]

Thank you for reading!

[Tai Ryens]

Everything about this is just so perfect. The flow is flawless, and your use of words greatly interests me. You captured this moment so perfectly, and I could paint the perfect image into my mind just off of your words. Beautiful piece right here, and you are great at writing!

[Von Alis]

This is great! Everything about it is perfect, you captured everything so well.