Retribution

This is a poem I had written two years ago; This was a desperate attempt at winning the Self Composed Poetry Recitation competition of my college.

It didn't win. But it did get the Third Prize. I thought I might share it with the world.

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Chilling warm winds, the pallor of doom,
The song is of death, the clouds fly and loom.
Distant flames flicker and fight,
Why is This choir wailing at night?


Soldiers of Life, a regiment of Fate;
Two of the army, His second mate.
Similarly different both of them were;
Warring with Destiny, were these soldiers.


The taller of the two, called himself Lou,
Had a loving wife and daughters two.
The significant other, known as Beau -
No misnomer, as handsome to tow.


Willful and comfy, in life, Lou was
Had no legs - but a good heart.
Crossroads he faced at every turn;
'Cause ebbing pyres forever burn.


Bitter and resentful had been Beau.
Savage love had scathed him so.
He dreamt of cliffs and stormy precipice,
Withering roses and silence entice.

Lou had plans to die an old man;
Beau, though, from life, always ran.
Lou never saw his winter arrive;
Beau wanted no seasoned reason to survive.


Incestuous Earth, today swallows Lou.
On a cloudy day of mist and dew.
Bugles call, as the mighty fall
Candles, passing bells, bearers of pall?


Beau had died a longtime back.
Didn't get a burial, as decay did lack
Wailing choirs timeless in his head.
Sunken heart, bleeding faith, hope dead.


Lou lies low; Beau standing so.
Ichor in Lou being had fed to Beau.
Beau had in him, no tenderness mild.
And daylight, to his doorsteps, brought a child.