No Winner Left
In that moment, the clouds went still,
the birds stopped flying,
flowers stopped growing.
The gun, motionless in his hands.
A man, like him, before his eyes
Emotionless gaze,
A body so numb,
That there were no feelings to show.
Both sweaty hands, weapons held close.
Now all that running,
And all that training,
Forgotten like lost promises
Nothing could compare to the weight,
The weight of that gun.
In their hands, their lives,
Their last thoughts: all their cries and laughs
"A monster they've made out of me,"
Both thought, struck with fear,
"A piece in their games.
They've taught me to win, and I shall."
The men's fingers moved together,
The trigger so close.
They look, one last time
At the victory in both eyes.
The game, now with two less pieces
They've defeated them,
The real opponents.
Their game over. No winner left.
Note: I have used a Hunger Games reference by Suzanne Collins in this poem. Honestly, I was very much inspired by the trilogy, the whole concept of being forced into war and then rebelling against the greater authority.I pictured a chess game. The men are the pieces in the game, and 'they' are the ones pushing these soldiers to fight.
Have you seen The Good, The Bad, and The Ugly? This slightly reminds me of the final scene, a trio of cowboys, all faced with the fact if they shoot one the other will shot them. This comparison is in writing style only you understand. Also the hunger games insperation is noticeable. Try to describe the background a little, to give me a small amount of context.
Hope this helps,
Take That You Fiend!
This was fantastic! I really enjoyed the mood you've set with this, and yes, it does remind me quite a lot of the Hunger games. I can imagine two tributes standing face to face, and the battle ending this way. I also really enjoy story poems, which I don't usually come across. I'm glad that someone decided to take on something so dark, and turn it into a wonderful story, and then decorate it with nice, poetic phrasing. Also, the ending tied everything together so nicely. Keep writing and producing wonderful work such as this one, sweetheart!
-Olivia
Timmyjake to leave you a short review!
I am terrible at writing poetry, honestly. But i will give you my two cents worth, anyway! 
Some of the lines here just don't seem to flow. I will point them out, even though I can't really do much to help fix them. Here goes!
Both sweaty hands, weapons held close.
Now all that running,
And all that training,
Disappearing for those two men
That stanza didn't flow for me. I think it has something to do with the middle lines...
The only other thing I saw wrong with this was that there were guns in it, which didn't really seem right. This sounds like a hunger games fanfic poem, but there are guns in the games? I don't remember that! Correct me if I am wrong, though!
This was great! I loved how you wrote it, and what it was about. I love the Hunger games!!
~Timmyjake
I knew it didn't quite beat with a good rhythm... As to that stanza, I tried fixing it! Hope it's better now...
Hello!
Rachel here with a review.
This a great piece. You created great imagery of two men just standing there, weapons drawn, both summoning the courage to do what they've been trained to do.
As for what defying gravity said about this piece here:
"A monster they've made out of me,"
Both thought, struck with fear,
"A piece in their games.
They've taught me to win, and I shall."
Nothing could compare to the weight,
The weight of that gun.
In their hands, their lives,
flashing like a film, their loves, cries.
I'm a fan of your poetry and I'm being honest when I tell you that when I saw in my notifications that you had reviewed my work I was so nervous!!
Okay, so I do have a few nitpicks. Right here
"A monster they've made out of me,"
Both thought, struck with fear,
"A piece in their games.
They've taught me to win, and I shall."
Nothing could compare to the weight,
The weight of that gun.
In their hands, their lives,
flashing like a film, their loves, cries.
NOTE: PLEASE DON'T MIND THE WEIRD PARAGRAPGHING IN THE FIRST STANZA. FOR SOME WEIRD REASON IT WON'T LET ME TAKE OUT THAT SPACE THANK YOU.
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