WiP - Another 366 Days of Poetry: Merceneric Contemplations

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Still working on the next poetry collection. This one's an experimental  piece written from the perspective of someone in a futuristic and/or fantastical mercenary company.


It’s not all

Balls to the wall

Firefights and gunships

Daring rescues

Heroics and near-miss slips

 

It’s not all

Royal balls

And blushing men and maidens

Drawn by holstered blaster

Or sheathed sword

Both battle-worn.

 

Sometimes it’s the quiet of a pre-raid wait

Or a small cell complete with shackles

While your company debates

The whyfors of your capture

The jurists’ long delay

And the value of a single man

They can send into forays

 

Sometimes, you get to sleep

In the bunk that you’re assigned

And to dream without the fear

Of raids or a mission misaligned

 

Sometimes, there is peace

A moment, rarely more

Where you can ponder why it was

You sought your fortune

In a life of war.


 


 

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