Robert McCallum

Robert McCallum Poems

The most abominable aspect of war is its necessity.


To where are you marching, soldier,
...

I’ve heard the music of the piper
From where the faeries roam,
For it carries thro’ the woodlands
That stand behind my home.
...

He stood high upon the white cliffs
Gazing out to sea,
And as he watched its ebb and flow
There upon he wished to be;
...

O’ the black bird this final twilight brings,
He comes this night upon stealthy wings
And thus to this I am fraught with dread,
For darkness knells; O’ whither shall I tread?
...

Nary dare I tend to touch upon
The tangible ordinary,
For I prefer the delightful pull
Toward the imaginary.
...

Vaporous forms adrift through cold dark rooms
Are remnants of passing that in this life looms,
And I’ve felt the touch that this dread embraces
While wandering about in haunted places.
...

Robert McCallum Biography

Robert Liam McCallum is a poet and Gothic fiction writer who currently lives in Western Montana where he says that the mountains and open expanses are more conducive to inspiration. Raised in Wheatridge, Colorado, Robert attended the University of Colorado and has since lived and travelled in the UK. He has been writing and stockpiling for many years, but has just recently decided to publish. Robert writes poetry, novels, novellas, novelettes and short stories that are set in various times and places in history. His most successful work is Hawthorne Cottage, a Victorian ghost story / murder mystery set in England in 1849.)

The Best Poem Of Robert McCallum

Soldier

The most abominable aspect of war is its necessity.


To where are you marching, soldier,
Is it to some dreadful foreign war?
Why must you leave your home again,
As you've done so many times before?
Where this morn does the turbulence crest
That sends you marching into the night?
Who this day shall become your enemy
That tomorrow you must fight?

Soldier, why is the world in conflict,
How does your integrity stand?
Is the world so tarnished by its disparities
That war is of demand?
Why do you sacrifice your hopes and dreams?
Why for others must you bleed?
Why do you cast your lot into the wind
For that which others need?

O’ to where are you marching, soldier,
With your youthful pace?
Why do you transcend the words of God
To maintain his touch of grace?
O’ where does your legion take you?
Upon whom will your convictions tread?
Why does the world keep with death and ruin
For any peace that lies ahead?

O’ what will become of tomorrow, soldier,
Will it become no more than today?
Will tomorrow bring once more the dusky hues
That takes you faraway?
O’ to where are you marching, soldier,
Is it truly to a needful war,
Or are you just marching to the inveterate dirge
That has been sung so many times before?

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