Another Life

My poem entry for the Valentines day competition. Please read and hopefully you will like it and add it to your favourites. I'm always open to criticism and, as always, I'm happy to read and rate any of your stories.
The first stanza is based on losing someone you love in the first world war, the second is a description of literary characters and their suffering (if you're wondering about the relevance of the razor, look up "The ballad of Charlotte Dymond"), the third is about the Ballad of Charlotte Dymond and the fourth is about... well, love!


1. The Poem

Beneath a field of poppies,

A lost soldier lays,

Soul succumbed to mother nature,

His body rots and decays.

And like so many before him,

His country is given the blame,

He was just another expendable soldier

In a glorified game.

And how is this soldier remembered?

With a stone depicting "Soldier, Anon."

At home his love cries for him,

But still their love goes on.


Now Love spins another tale

Of loss and sacrifice,

She tells us of Heathcliffe and Cathy

Who paid the ultimate price,

Of Hamlet's grief striken madness

As his love met her watery end,

Of those who are deprived of love

And of hearts that will never mend.

Yet, reader, she tells this story,

Of her malevolent side,

About a girl, a boy, a razor

And a world about to collide:


"Should I compare thee to a Summer's day?

Or perhaps a flawless rose?

No, I'll bury you six feet under,

As the world around you grows."

And what was the reason for this quarrel,

This sorrow and grief?

One lover was not faithful,

So a knife came out of its sheath.

Both souls are now departed,

But have we learned from their plight?

Think of the lovers who won't live to see

Their beautiful wedding night.


Yes, Love is cruel and fickle,

As history has shown,

But she can be sweet and blissful

When her seeds are rightly sown.

Beware her fiery countenance,

Love can maim and fight,

As we see from Juliet's suffering

And Romeo's tragic plight.

But it's there in the sweet babe's gurgles,

The lover's pure delight,

She's in every crevice of our being...

Love, we cannot fight.



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