Saturday, April 9, 2011


So here's a ballad I wrote in my spare time, why? Because it's awesome? Maybe, but mostly because I was just that bored. For those of you who don't know what a ballad is, Ballads are poems that tell a story. Because knowledge is power folks.
On the tired plains of Normandy
a blackened husk of dreams
rest near ten thousand quietus men
cold beds dressed in screams

An endless rain of infant men
those yanks with clicks and code
swiftly seized Jerry sleeping sound
with roads those yanks now strode

Dawn broke for those fretful few
with waves upon those beaches
and once occupied with hue and lead
came little more than screeches

With weary triumph through tired land
came forth a resonant ring
alas the memories - nostalgic
what bother dreams can bring


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