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Atonement


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Standing in the midst of war torn ruins,

Wearily showing off all the battle scars.

Looking around at hate and death,

No signs of love or peace,

Just a bruised, jaded trigger finger.

 

Shoulders slumped with the weight of a guilty conscience,

Legs buckling with the burden of regret.

She's seen too many people hate,

She can't cope with more heartache.

And no one to blame but herself.

 

He turned his back on an uncaring nation,

Denounced his allegiance to a worthless flag.

He sought refuge in another state,

Hoping for a brighter day,

Leaving his past behind.

 

But his homeland still beckons him back home.

In his heart, he never truly left.

Can a defector defect again?

Will a traitor be welcomed home?

Or left out in the cold?

 

She stands alone seeing the consequences of her actions.

In her heart she knows that she can take no more.

She knows she can't undo her past,

But she knows war can not last,

It can only ever end one way.

 

So she sets down her smoking assault rifle.

Tears off her dented body armour.

She turns her back on an unjust war,

Denouncing who she was before,

Her conscience is still very much alive.

 

He sees destruction rain upon his former nation,

A consequence of his bad decision.

He sees his home get torn apart,

He has a sudden change of heart,

It's his duty to make it right.

 

So he takes action against the offensive forces.

To protect the lives that he's put at risk.

He tries hard to make it right,

He tries hard to end the fight,

And find his absolution.

 

Exiled from both opposing forces,

A deserter who walked away from a war.

They were two very distant souls,

Sharing a common goal,

To make up for their pasts.

 

So out of a persisting darkness,

There is born a glimmer of light.

He vows to return home,

She to follow too,

To replace night in their hearts with day.

Edited by Mokrie Dela
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  • 2 weeks later...

The great thing about poetry is how it can be interpreted. It wasn't written about that butif you can take that angle and It touch you emotionally, non done.

 

I don't say what it's specifically about but it's not a subtle metaphor. True to form, when my world crumbles and my life falls apart, I write poems.

Thanks for reading and feeling it man.

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