Written Poetry by Marcellus Nealy

Wake Us From War

Revised 6/17/05

The bastion
Last faction of
Furious callers have gone
Where raucous cause
Is all forlorn
And horn has sung
It’s call

Distant hoards
Crash crusades
About the plain
Distilled into
The darkest range
Of rejoinder
Retaliation
Remorse

Blast of rivers
Crammed with twigs
Where they cross
Forgetting but not forgotten
left to strive
Without wit
To riddle out
The cause
Beyond the scope
Of unreconciled truth
Layers of haphazard
Calls
Calling

The wet walk
Talk of turning
Red redemption
Again to take
The charge of churning
Burning blessings
Gone

What lesson to learn
Then forget to learn again
What wordless sense
To pass along generations
That find themselves
Upon the field
Waging mortal toil
Against the instinctive
Recoil of common sense

Beyond control the
Gripping dissuasion
Of lines left askew
Soldiers slipping
Hypnotic into
Rhetorical annihilation
Where resistance is
Made a mockery and
Tossed into the caustic
Crevasses of irreparable
Circumstance

Here we hold
Though hope
Be not supplied
To push against
The curtain certain
Lead to our doom
Till eastward rises
The remains of our kind
And mortar sits upon the pine
A last reminiscent
Symbol of undying
Eyes swept in mounting air
Thick upon the prize
Of footsteps
Slung in strides
Away from the blow

Awaken and see
The furious illusion
Dangled upon the thread
Flood the light and wash away
The torrid clash of our seems
Till all of anger
Is as real as our dreams

M. D. Nealy