A Corpse for a Bride

A Corpse for a Bride

A Poem by Bleda


Drink my share of milk till you heal

Because my time has come,

Our faith needs me Mamma,

And I am your only son

I know I am only twenty one,

My blood is red, my hair is black

But I will write to you every single day

And I promise I will be back


Hand me a sword, son

Attired in sacred robes I must plead

For our Gods to become their Gods

Or strike their hearts till they bleed

So call this God down on the earth

Tell him to give his wand a swish

So that my sword can turn to vapour

And the boy fulfil his dying mother’s wish


And now there is silence on the blood-spattered farms

I am cradled in my mother’s arms

And God has wiped away all the sins in my veins,

And there shall be no more pain



An early wedding kiss, my dear

So that I may now go to war

Our rulers say they need me,

But no one knows what for

I know I couldn't give you much, my love

But I’ll soon sell off my gun

A buy you lots of chocolate from the city

When the war is done


Hand me a gun, boy

In my country’s garb I stand

With the weight of the world on my shoulders

The detonator in my hand

I’d rather shoot myself down

Than kill the man on the other side

Who never asked for an early funeral

Or a corpse for his bride


The beach is silent, here comes a bloody tide

And I have a corpse for a bride

I lay buried with brothers not of my own

And we shall lay here flesh to flesh, bone to bone

© 2013 Bleda

Author's Note

Inspired by Elliott's "Born to Kill". Thanks Elliott. :)

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A poem that sources itself in the great mix of oneness of our true natures. Like grape growers stomping on grapes in a tank it reminds us that ultimately the taste of what we are is in the wine to be produced. Keep writing Sri.

Posted 8 Years Ago

this is very touching:) your poem paints a very vivd picture, and the title portrays your theme

Posted 8 Years Ago

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Added on August 28, 2013
Last Updated on August 28, 2013
Tags: War



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