My heart melts within me when I,
The requiem of a comrade in arms attend,
I survey helplessly as his mama writhe in pains,
Asking why she had to cast her young
As soon as they from college pass
Three sons in a roll, all of them from their roles erased,
Though he bravely fought,
He fell alas to the vampire with our cells
Many are they from life's prime snatched,
When they thought from death's grasp, exceed
How will mine be different I thought,
When the mighty fall as sheaf before the wind,
What chances have I?
When they that had the best of care had none?
They said no two lives are the same
But we all in us, bear a blood scar,
A mark that define the tales of our lives
While the days of our lives it decides
I know not when my time is up
But vowed to finish my mission in haste,
Lest my yonder roll is called,
I may depart this sphere without regrets.
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Poet's Notes about The Poem
Comments about this poem (Blood Scar by Dave BenOdafe )
(March 26, 1874 – January 29, 1963)
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Edgar Allan Poe
(19 January 1809 - 7 October 1849)
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David Herbert Lawrence
(11 September 1885 – 2 March 1930)
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