faceless, bound by uniform,
we are merely soldiers,
simple extras in the play
fate rules the dice –
with this man’s death
comes victory,
small but quite distinct
yet,
from the fists of his dark failure,
sparks fly back,
echoing some future day
where death blows gently
on the nape and,
with a futile gesture,
it is the turn of each of us,
alone, until the war is done,
to stand upon some
makeshift scaffold,
waiting for the dice to land
until defiance falls to us
we are still but soldiers –
bound by duty, just like him,
to kick the legs away
Author notes
From the soldier's point of view...
A contest entry
- Picture prompt - Defiance! by Mairi bheag.
1000 points, ended June 14, 2008, 11 entries
Gold trophy winner
• next poem in this contest, remove from contest
Comments
-
And spend the rest of your life trying to forget the things you have done...
The hair stands on the back of my neck feeling that slight warm breeze... -
Congratulations on well deserved first place trophy. This poem is , once again excellent- especially that there is more in it than even the poet sees. This is mark of art.
-
Whilst I don't think the Ustaše guards would have had a moment's hesitation in kicking away the trestle on which Filipović stood, I think what you have given us here is an excellent "persona" poem, putting the reader smack bang into the head of someone whose duty it is to kick the legs away... pull the trigger... throw the switch...
Lots of food for thought in response to the prompt. Thank you for this entry. -
Excellent interpretation of the circles of history. The only difference between soldiers is which end of the gun happen you are on.
PS I especially like that you make this universal and eternal with the allusion with the dice and the Roman soldiers at the crucifixions in the Roman Empire 2000 years ago
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