Fight to the Death
Pyrrhic Victory
![](https://res.cloudinary.com/jerrick/image/upload/d_642250b563292b35f27461a7.png,f_jpg,fl_progressive,q_auto,w_1024/6660d4de540684001d1403cd.jpg)
Here I stand, stranger in the distance
There you stand, my stranger, a'wond'rin'
I seek to know, seek assistance
From whence I came? Your stranger, a'sund'rin'?
.
Existentially feared, history stolen
It was final, when, what-it-is became what-it-was
Your bombs on me, blistery, inclemently fallen
Fiend! Your bombs, on me, was the way, what t'was
.
I seek to know, betwixt us, who really won
I seek from you, transfixed, the very same
Whose bombs of both, fell last, till nearly none
Whose bombs, at last, when Kingdom came
.
Your bombs were, coverty, launched first
Nay, I heard it reversely occurred
We fought back honorably, so coerced
We fought indomitably when, first, you erred
.
The final blows, predictors
Of the winners of the war we waged
Who's left last, standing, the victors
Of a world that's left, so razed
.
Nothing-left, strangely, posthumously unites us
We must, insanely, agree on that
We can agree, inanely, there's nothing, thus...
We're reduced to one-and-the-same--begat
.
You're one of us, half the world, now
You're one of us, the other half, too
I look for me, a brother, in thou
When I question your brotherhood as true
.
Not finished, you and I, perhaps
We retreat, some, to our respective sides, unprotected
Each eyes, we, the dregs and the scraps
While perceived cheats become our guides misdirected
.
I confront you, gravely demanding
Whilst, I, regather to beat my people's blow
And I, too, ward off, bravely withstanding
You'll see me affix your defeat in tow
.
When just one's left, standing defiant
Against the one, on the other side, mirrored
The cracked glass won't resilver the giant
Reflections are equally reversed, but feared
.
Let this eleventh hour decide our war
Two left stanzing, but only one, so written, returns
We each have left only fists and teeth and core
We each want to win, to rule a world--so smitten--that burns
.
My tears of war and honor flow prolific
Till my own war dries my eyes in the dust
The spoils are Pyrrhic, terrific, and acidic
Our worlds, Mars has buried, under chariot rust
About the Creator
Gerard DiLeo
Retired, not tired. In Life Phase II: Living and writing from a decommissioned church in Hull, MA. (Phase I was New Orleans and everything that entails. Hippocampus, behave!
https://www.amazon.com/Gerard-DiLeo/e/B00JE6LL2W/
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Comments (5)
Are you a Wilfred Owen fan? This does War Poetry so much justice. Well said, Gerard.
Well-wrought! "War! What is it good for? Absolutely nothing!"
Awesome, high action poetry! Super unique and passionate!
Whoaaaa, this blew my mind! Loved your poem!
Part time physicist, sometime scientist, full-time philosopher, always human. I loved the dialectic of your poem. I hope this is for the challenge. Very, very impressive.