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  Home > War > Poetry
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Chris G

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Member Since: Dec, 2008

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Four teens trip to an adventure camp goes terribly wrong following a river rafting accident. Now they must work together to battle vicious animals and survive overwhelmin..  
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Popular Poetry (War)
  1.  Prison
  2.  that morning along the mezzanine...





Eye of Salamander, Heart of Newt
by Chris G

Wednesday, December 17, 2008
Rated "PG" by the Author.
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Recent poems by Chris G
•  SOFTLY
•  Wonder Flame
•  Finding my way in darkness
•  Baby Killer
•  Whispering Your Name
           >> View all 12

This poem reflects my personal experiences in war, and my thoughts on all Veterans.

            Eye of Salamander, Heart of Newt

    Collections of defences, suit of armor made of glass
    There is no central heating, high above this plane of grass
    Something in the distance, has the odor of the grave
    This is no place for children, even fathers can be brave

    The lightning from its voice, has a motion swift and true
    A dagger of deception, flying straight for you
    Demons have a calling, though not one of  greed
    Emancipations whisper, harbors notions of great need

    I am the bringer of conviction, the center of the art
    But only fools will follow me, to the places far apart
    Mansions have their seasons, left alone upon a hill
    Anger is no secret, to the knight who still must kill

    Bring no laughter to this table, it is bitter in its gall
    There is no place for dreaming, in this green room down the hall
    Place your faith in alabaster statues, hid in notches on the wall
    Say a prayer to heal a monster, just a human after all

    Within a box, covered in ebony, a diamond for its key
    Lie the ashes of desire, to be cast silently away at sea
    It is simple in its danger, this parting from the way
    Bring no master to this banquet, but the sinner has to stay

    Call the name of reason, scream it to the stars
    The fault of justice, may impart a meaning, namely ours
    For the sake of the defender, no sound may break his lips
    Not when the anchor has been weighed, from these crimson ships

    Gather a convention, of the brightest and the best
    Send them into the night, to a place they face the test
    A cinema is not the world, a fiction does not ring true
    Going down has no return, not for me and you
    
    

Anunitu (C) 2001       
           

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