Rage

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Status: Finished  |  Genre: Poetry  |  House: Booksie Classic


Sometimes raging in a game is necessary.

Submitted: August 11, 2018

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Submitted: August 11, 2018

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I rage on through the night 

with my battle cry

to fight the onslaught of tears, of sorrow, 

of past and present

of future and beyond. 

 

I rage through the night

a lion with its eyes piercing its prey, 

an owl with its talons extended for a catch, 

wings silent in the night. 

There's nothing to be scared of, 

in this war there is no winner

only a successor. 
 

I rage on through the night, 

tired and worn, weak and forlorn, 

but stronger in mind, in spirit. 

This war becomes a game, 

a round of chess, 

a messy game of Risk. 

He calculates a move and I counter, 

thinking ahead. 

He does the same, until we reach a stalemate 

and debate

who shall win this game. 

 

We rage on through the night

until the dawn brightens our eyes

and shines light on the bloodshed. 


© Copyright 2018 A.D. Ware. All rights reserved.

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