Un Soldat Curajos
Mohima Alam 2007 (Dhaka)
Once upon a time in Rome,
during the reign of King Amulius Four,
I, Marcellus Well, in the attire of a soldier
was forced to join a hunt for the tyrants.
"Find them, oh, leave no stone unturned!"
"No doubt, my King," utters the lieutenant.
Heading for Ostalius, a land in the north,
abandoned and lonely,
with its soil uncared for.
Each ward consisted of forty soldiers.
Sorted in the 21th ward, I stood
feeling the bloodshed
already beneath my feet
deafening in the ears of a mute.
There appeared a large army of tyrants,
each having mastered cruel spells
Spells that crush one's skull and bones,
spells that destroy one's cells.
Staring at the bloodthirsty enemy,
we couldn’t but admit
what remained the truth.
We stood no chance against them,
against those cruellest looks.
Retreating was not an option
to be discussed,
said so our Lieutenant Lucius Xandrax,
"Take out your mighty swords,
o loyal soldiers!
Fight hard with your enemy and return!"
Clankings of numerous swords was
to be heard the next moment,
with forty brave soldiers marching towards
a thousand hungry tyrants.
Some lost arms, some lost legs,
Some even lost their heads.
"Oh my Creator! Couldn’t you have spared me from witnessing such bloodshed?"
As the other wards were sent
to the east and west,
Oh, how awful it was,
that reinforcements never came.
The uncared for land soon turned sticky and wet, with blood gushing
out here and there,
Only five left surviving, soon to face death.
Arms, legs and blood flew
over a thousand heads,
four soldiers out cold, only I was left.
For a moment, I close my eyes
Instantly visiting the little cozy home
that I and Mihaela Amadeus
had together sewn.
Dreams we owned, goals we possessed,
dear God, may she fulfill
all those on her own.
May little Cassius grow
up to be a brave man,
may he visit his dead father's
grave every now and then.
I shall die a martyr today, I hold no doubts.
In the name of my dead comrades,
I scream out loud,
"Come at me, o betrayers!
Do you think I have lost?"
I wield my old sword again,
as my master had taught.
Suddenly, I hear a loud slash
and my limbs go flying
I kneel down slowly,
my whole body is dying.
I lay down, gazing at the
sun hidden by clouds,
like my lifespan has been reduced
by a dozen fold.
"My King, Oh my respectful king,
long live your name,
Cassius, watch your limp father,
Mihaela, here's your dead husband.
About this poem
This is a poem about an imaginary Roman soldier who faces death bravely in the end.
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Written on October 01, 2022
Submitted by Mohimaaalam21 on October 05, 2022
Modified on March 05, 2023
- 2:32 min read
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Quick analysis:
Scheme | ABCD XEXFB GXHXX DIXI FXXXX XXDJGX KEJDXLH XMKN OXX XLXXAXP MXPXXGQ XXXDXQX XOFO XXXX ONCX |
---|---|
Closest metre | Iambic tetrameter |
Characters | 2,411 |
Words | 506 |
Stanzas | 15 |
Stanza Lengths | 4, 5, 5, 4, 5, 6, 7, 4, 3, 7, 7, 7, 4, 4, 4 |
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"Un Soldat Curajos" Poetry.com. STANDS4 LLC, 2024. Web. 10 Jun 2024. <https://www.poetry.com/poem/143886/un-soldat-curajos>.
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