I yearn for the right to be free;
to break away from this ominous oppression
that has clouded France for years--
shrouded her in sorrowful, sickening suppression.
Months have gone by in preparation
to defeat the clouds and let the sun illuminate forever
France and her posterity.
This is her destiny, which no king dare sever.
We come from all walks and paths of life.
I, along with others, are bourgeois in birth
while others emanate from the gutters and slums;
yet the secrets of freedom, together, we shall unearth.
The time has at last arrived to erect the barricade.
The time for oration has past; we must now act.
The time of hunger, hardship, and hell is ending--
the time has come and we must react.
Our crude barricade is a pile of desks, mirrors, and chairs
constructed while awaiting the imminent attack.
All I can do now is tremor and pray in the darkness-
'tis too late to back out, too late to turn back.
The tumult begins at the first fired shot,
an uproar and clamor engulf the narrow lane.
The groans and moans of dying men,
flood my ears with their agony and pain.
We clash and feud amid the stench of the air--
among the daily sweepings and filth of the streets.
In addition, the pungent scent of gunpowder and sweat,
smell like death when with blood they meet.
I can almost feel the forces themselves at war:
the brutal enslavement of man, body and soul,
at odds with the liberty and vigor of revolution.
The former, caustic and coarse--the latter, as moving as the church bell's toll.
If I had to describe how freedom tastes, I could,
for I have enjoyed it here today.
It is as sweet as purest sugar,
as savory as fresh baked from a café.
I stand aghast at the horrors before my eyes:
blood flows through the street like rain,
bodies and their various parts scattered in disarray,
while the Angel of Death scours for souls in the worst of pain.
Just when I think all hope is lost, Marianne appears--
Liberty herself is atop our barricade, urging us on.
The goddess of Freedom is waving our flag,
Transforming calamity to peace, turning the night into dawn.
Vive la France! Vive la France!
Hi , graceellegood
it's me teacake013 here to review.
I thoroughly and truthfully enjoy your work it was unique!:)
I'm not here to judge your work badly
Also I know it takes a lot to publish you're works so I respect that completely.
But Wow, that was such a great poem , Really so beautiful.
I don't know if this is constructive or not but
In you're work pacifically I enjoyed how you chose a topic that you seem
Have good knowledge and have a good grasp on the French revelation
it didn't just seemed made up.
It was a poem that I truthfully never thought to make about.
Ps I can see ure a fan of les miserables.
.
Hope you keep on improving and writing you're heart out!.!
Love, Teacake013
Hi! I really liked your poem, and how it kept me engaged to it the whole time! I usually don't like History because it sometimes doesn't make sence to me. Your poem makes me understand what the French Revolution was like and just by reading it makes me think that history is acctually pretty interesting! Welcome to YWS!
Hello! So I assume you are a fan of Les Miserables, or knowledgeable of the French Revolution. Either way, I like that you've written a poem about it, I really like it! I think you set the mood and tone pretty well, though the flow in some parts are a little iffy. But the story you tell is told in a good flow overall, it wasn't too sudden or too superfluous either, which a lot of people (including me) tend to do a lot in poetry. I would just recommend capitalizing the first letter of each new line. Otherwise I really liked it, and welcome to YWS!