Monday, 26 January 2009

Like Spiders they Crawl

A poem I wrote for my History homework about WW1. Soz, I just wanted to provide you guys with something else creative, other than just "I went to Bluewater". I had one heck of a dream last night, it was so freaky. I'm just thinking whether to write it down as a short story and put it up here or not. Then you can tell me what it means! It seems I either have no dreams, or I have nightmares. Always based on a different mood of film, I've seen. If only I could remember that sci-fi one I had a few months ago. This dream... I can only compare it to a very scary, more horrific mood of The Stepford Wives, if you've ever seen that.

I said I would, so here's the link to my first MOC from yesterday:

By the way, if you read this blog regularly, could you write a comment down below, just to show me that this blog has visitors. If I know you, please put your name. Thanks!

The glistening dew on a winter morning’s leaf
Meets mud and terror reflected within itself
A starker contrast could never be met,
As the soldiers behind the dew scramble across the mud.
Like spiders they crawl,
In a line, one after the other:
Heads held low, packs on tense shoulders like ashamed turtles
Their lethal rifles slowly rusting from the puddles and mud.
Then from the miserable sky falls
The devil in the form of a great metal vessel
Taken by gravity on its horrifying course
To meet the ground with a gentle pop.
There are no words on the Earth to describe the
Sharp intake of breath by the soldiers
As the sight of death meets their eyes,
And the vessel of the devil blows the helpless into oblivion.
Others crawl behind them
In a seemingly unending line
As the scramble over or round the dead
Oblivious to the horrific remains.
Knowing that they too
Would meet a similar end.

No comments: