WiP - Another 366 Days of Poetry: Merceneric Contemplations
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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