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The Glory Seeker's Lament

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We march, though in truth it is mockery to call it so

For there is no time, no rhythm, only the seemingly endless drone

Of a thousand pairs of boots upon the road

Of a thousand swords and shields scraping and clanging

Against a thousand other pieces of armor.



I have long lost count of the miles behind

The new and strange scenery ceases to amaze

My thoughts drift briefly to home, but even home

seems unreal. Another life lived by another man.

There is only the heat, the endless miles

The dust on my tongue, and the noise


I remember faintly, the way it felt when I

 of my own free will enlisted. The Pride. The Joy

Here! Here was my destiny! To defend my country!

I told them, my friends, my family, all who would hear it

“I shall return with my shield or upon, look for me!”


My shield is nothing more than a weight upon my back

My Armor and sword, another daily chore.

For they must be cleaned , polished, and sharpened

For a battle that never comes.

 Where is my Glory?

Comments (2)

This comment was minimized by the moderator on the site

brilliant poem. the best i have read on the site yet.

Sam Snodsmith
This comment was minimized by the moderator on the site

Thank you! that is very kind

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