Hands gently clasped together As the two walk in the world they wish to believe in. Neither wishing to envision the world that it could be. Loving smiles traded with sweet kisses It was only pure chance that they were truly happy.
Then dark clouds with angry visions filtered into their loving world. "I must go and help our people." One said, While hands were relunctantly pulled apart. "I know." A soft whisper of understanding.
Days passed by Then weeks Followed by months Until she lost track of the years A prayer ever on her lips.
A stranger rode into town upon a black steed The war as ended with victory and loss of life
Still, no definite proof that her lover was gone And so she continued to pray caring for their son.
The son grew into a teen and then a man Always wondering about the father he never met But could say he hated For his mother never gave up on the dream he might live And so could never truly be happy Passing away in her sleep, ever a prayer on her lips for the lost lover
The son swore he would never love as she did Finding a nice young woman to marry, And have children with.
Another war called, and the son went to answer Not thinking of his family but hoping they would live And as he laid dying from a fatal wound He finally understood his mother, And prayed that his wife and children could move on Be happy in life without wars
And so he lost consciousness with a prayer on his lips.
He woke to find himself back home. With his loving wife tending to him His twin daughters helping their mother And his son learning to hunt from a neighbor, An old man who couldn't fight in the war
His wife informed him he wouldn't fight anymore either Having lost his leg in the battle and lucky to scrap by with his life He couldn't help but feel his mother prayers were the answer And so he took up his mother's habit Of always having a prayer upon his lips In hopes his family would no longer suffer
And he gave his heart to his wife and children like he should have done before
I have no idea where this poem came from. I was expecting some fairy tale to pop up but none did. Instead this poem is slightly religious. Which, when thinking upon it, seems a bit strange considering I'm not a highly religious person... Please, don't ask me about my belief system. It's a bit complicated and I don't like religious debates. Let's leave it at, "I am an universal believer." To those who know what I mean, Kudos to you.
ReapersGlory · Tue Jan 21, 2014 @ 07:31am · 0 Comments |