Battlefields

Poem By Taylor Hainline

We walk to the front lines
trying to bypass our enemies.
Take my hand,
my shield.
We are not going to die,
not on this night.
March on my brothers,
carry on my sisters.
We are victors,
soldiers,
throw out your fear.
Hold your helmet high,
this night we fight.
Allow the tears to run,
for our lost brothers in arm.
The beginning is here, my friend,
take your sword,
you shield,
and meet me on the battlefield.

Comments about Battlefields

There is no comment submitted by members.


Rating Card

5 out of 5
0 total ratings

Other poems of HAINLINE

Look Deeper, Listen Harder

Was it meant
To end like this
All set up
Like a restricted bliss

Little Angel

Little Angel
can't you see
this world
Isn't for you and me?

So Selfish?

Is it selfish of me
to wish you were here?
Even though it's your dream
to travel the world?

Infinite

Look out with eyeful
tell me what you see.
This world is full
of make believe.

Enough

Are your hands gentle enough
to wipe away tears?
Strong enough,
to fight fears?

I Say, They Say

They say this love
will leave me sore,
broken-hearted and torn.