I know this does not rhyme, and might not make much sense, but I wrote it and it resembles poetry that doesn't quite fit in with poetry!
I have taken no lessons in poetry and have only written one poem in my life, but bear with me people.
To Die a Dream of Death.
The sanctions of acts,
The conditions of fate,
A lost mind admits his despair.
What he has done,
Could never be fixed.
A body with no soul,
A soul without a fate,
A fate with no dream.
He can call this life
A dream of death,
A contradiction of what life is.
To wake with no return,
A mind of shallow thought,
This is not what his life should be,
This is not what he could be,
But with a dream he is lost.
His dreams haunt him,
Fearsome dreams of falling in battle.
A lost fight he dies to dream.
His life is what he chances,
And he chances the life
Of a forsaken soldier.
Born ready to die or to kill,
Born ready for death.
A reaper he represents.
To purge souls
Without a scythe but with a gun.
This is what he’s dreamed,
This is what he breaths.
Just to die in battle,
Just to live in death,
Just to be his dream.
A dream with no fate,
A fate without a soul,
A soul with no body.
He’s chosen his path,
And with his dream,
He will die
To be his dream.
To die a dream of death.
-----------------------------------
Sorry if this is moderately confusing, and most likely my poetic punctuation is atrocious, but that is why I believe you guys are here to pick up on things. Thanks a lot for bearing with me.
~Incognito
