The Poetry of Exterminance
Three Poems
Fighting For the Fourteen - an Acronymous Poem
Far not from the frightful morrow
On the very eve of sorrow
Replete with arms at ready
Great warriors standing steady
Over the battleground now gaze
To contemplate their final days
To plan ahead for battle's wrath
Etching out a suitable path
Not pausing to ponder fear
Nor bemoan the lack of luxuries near
Only wishing to encounter the foe
To end their lives and lay them low
Fighting for survival
Our lives and liberties at stake
Universal Nature's Laws our bible
Resisting, with whatever it takes
To victory or Valhalla we march
Embrace the bitter blitz
Even as above us Death's halo arches
Not pausing to voice regrets
When faced at last with mortal foe
Our ranks braced for the brunt
Ruined we their ordered rows
Devasting them to back from front
So hail the sure victory!
Arya Numerica
Sing a song of beauty
An eye full of Aryan light
Four and twenty Valkyries
Danced, to my delight!
And as my eyes were opened
My heart began to sing
Was this not the vision
Which justified everything?
Fourteen maidens skipped along
A trail by the riverside;
Singing and smiling and making strong
The spirits of men who've died.
In less joyous times, down that path
Grim warriors once hurried;
And now, long since the battle's wrath,
Eighty-eight soldiers there lay buried.
Time seems to tread tardily
While battle's brunt is borne;
The fates seem to deal unto men hardly
When the piper plays his horn.
Yet years seventeen and thirty-eight score
Passed like the flight of a beast
And all the brave warriors of yore
In Valhalla's halls now feast.
A Warning to the Male of the Species:
When beauty's bounty blessed my eyes
And bore the burden of my stares and sighs
I felt, deep down, a dire debt
A price for privilege which must be met
And, if such beauty were mine to see
I must fight, to keep her free.
Stood and spoke is what I did;
My name not something I'd have hid.
Aroused the ire of beauty's bane
While their hounds bayed that it were vain
And foolish to resist the killer kings
Who sought to end all beautiful things.
Yet my eyes still find with briefest seek
Justification in fair maiden's cheek;
Cause enough is ever there,
And epiphany in golden hair
And in slightest quirk of expressive lips,
Reason enough perpetually drips.
So prison gates yawn and sword raises high,
The demons croon "For a pardon apply!"
The temperature drops and the lights fade away,
And now starts the first of many a long day
Sitting in stillness and far from all pleasant
In an attempt to make me all good things resent.
But part of me will always be free
And beauty which spurred me I'll continue to see
Burned for all time into the sight of my soul
Frozen forever in immaculate splendour
No matter what evils I'll be forced to endure
Or how long I'll be held in a hole;
For what man can say 'The price is too great!
'If I fight for her beauty, they'll accuse me of hate!
'And suffer and fear I've known more than enough!
'What more must I pay for mere image of love?
'Why even try, to but die when push comes to shove?
'I'm here to enjoy, not strive or act tough!'
What will such encounter, when inevitable Fate
Leaves them face to face with Eternity
Beyond Death's yawning gate?
The gods granted us fertility,
If for fruition we but fight;
And if we do not - tremble, come Night!
For being cold and alone is the sole lot
Of those who ever fled, and never have fought.
- Bill Noble
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