Ancient Battles Underground – A Poem

Ancient battles, under ground;
The living they hear not a sound;
Voices plead in soft despair;
Telling those who come “beware!”

“Here were fallen men of old;”
The tortured tales to living told;
“They fought for things that had no worth;
In darkened caves a’fore your birth.”

“The wars they raged a’far from sight;
The violence burned through day and night;
The soldiers wicked with their foes;
The horrors melt into their woes.”

“At first one side did claim advantage;
To seek a victory from vantage;
Then in hubris down, defeated;
Surrendered to themselves conceited.”

“Walls round towns were felled, the pillage;
Burned destroyed abandoned village;
Morlocks clashing in obscure;
Their pallid skin, their eyesight sure.”

“Until the last of them was dead;
And spirits’ vapor fought instead;
Hatred did keep them as shades;
For to keeping up the raids.”

“Cyclical did tale abide;
For the undead soldiers of cave inside;
Peace, to vanish did each seek;
A kind of respite for the weak.”

“Now you have come to set us free;
For this tale, alas, is me;
And those of mine who stand beside;
Waiting, anxious, for the tide.”

“So tell us, tell us you who’re here;
Are you to allay our fears?
Will you save us from our past?
Will you see us dead at last?”

“No,” I said, though with some sadness;
“I cannot save you from the madness;
For though you’re dead, yet still you bow;
To set you free I know not how.”

I b’lieve in cavern still they wait;
For he who mightn’t change their fate;
Warring, warring underground.
While still above we hear not a sound.

About Joel D. Hirst

Joel D. Hirst is a novelist and a playwright. His most recently released work is "Dreams of the Defeated: A Play in Two Acts" about a political prisoner in a dystopian regime. His novels include "I, Charles, From the Camps" about the life of a young man in the African camps and "Lords of Misrule" about the making and unmaking of a jihadist in the Sahara. "The Lieutenant of San Porfirio" and its sequel "The Burning of San Porfirio" are about the rise and fall of socialist Venezuela (with magic).
This entry was posted in Poetry, Uncategorized and tagged , . Bookmark the permalink.

Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in:

WordPress.com Logo

You are commenting using your WordPress.com account. Log Out /  Change )

Google photo

You are commenting using your Google account. Log Out /  Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out /  Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out /  Change )

Connecting to %s