The Soldiers

Every morning I walk along the promenade

only to find hundreds of scorched soldiers scattered across the sidewalk.

For a while I wondered what had caused them to end up this way,

until one night I was finally able to witness the cause.

You see in the dark of the night

when even the Great Horned Owls have fallen into the deep slumbers of sleep,

hundreds of soldiers gather on either side of the pavement

preparing for a battle of Good vs. Evil.

The right side being pure and good while the left simmers in wicked evil.

This makes sense too,

because honestly when has the left ever been portrayed as anything but negative.

Anyway, the good soldiers are trying to defend their territory from the evil soldiers,

as it so happens this battle is one that takes place every night.

And so the battle ensues.

Armor is strapped on and battle axes are readied.

The battle becomes one of the most gruesome of all

as segments of soldiers go flying in each and every direction.

Casualties rise quickly.

This continues on through the night,

neither side gaining the upper hand.

Until eventually the morning sun emerges,

its rays of sunlight peeking over the horizon.

As soon as the remaining soldiers catch a glimpse of this sight,

they hastily make their retreat.

'It's only the sun' one may think;

however, after looking closely at the soldiers as they retreat in fear,

you begin to see why they are afraid.

The corpses of the fallen and the few unlucky soldiers,

not quick enough to inch their way within the shade of the grass,

begin to fry.

Their skin melding with the concrete.

The sun's appearance concludes the battle for now.

The only evidence being the scorched segments of the fallen scattered along the pavement.




Additional Resources

Get AI Feedback on your poem

Interested in feedback on your poem? Try our AI Feedback tool.


If You Need Support

If you ever need help or support, we trust for people dealing with depression. Text HOME to 741741