The Legionnaire

He stood like a statue

A God among men

His nerves like iron

Unable to upend


His skin worn like ancient leather

His eyes like arrow points

Body battered by the weather

With echoes of war resting in his joints


Demanding nothing less than total dedication

For the price of defeat was the forfeit of the nation

The tyrannical crown bane of their existence

The origin of the emphatic resistance


A Batallia of kingsmen sat opposite the way

For the fortunes of many were sealed that day

How the blood shall soon stain the gentle flowers of May

Alas, for the price of freedom be there no other way


He turned to his own, addressing his men

For many he shan’t ever speak to again

The emotions bubbled inside, they came and they went

Cherishing final moments, for the time had been spent


“Brothers,” he shouted “Hear my voice.”

“all be here due to nothing but personal choice”

“Our deeds here today shall be immortalized in stone”

“The odds may be bleak, but I shan’t face them alone”


“We fight for our children, asleep home in their beds”

“We fight for our forefathers, that for this opportunity they bled”

“We fight for our Comrades who hath stained the fields red”


“The time is upon us”

“May our actions be sound”

“May our blades remain sharp”

“May we intern them into this hallowed ground”


He charged with Brothers

Sword and Shield in hand

If War was an Art then Brushes be their hand


The battle was won

He fallen victim to the fray

Still they sing songs of his deeds to this day

This poem is about: 
Our world
Poetry Terms Demonstrated: 


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