This is a bit of a forum game, but at the same time it has the capacity to result in a bit of poetry, so it goes here. I'm going to supply a line of poetry, and the following poster is to create a poem using the line I gave as their first. Along with their poem, they supply a line for the next person to write poetry on. No restrictions on the type of line or poetry; just keep the line open ended.
Off in the East, the sound of the beast, Calling through the midnight air; Sixteen fortnights and a battle fair, No war was lost to the West.
The sound of the drums, and marching man's hums, Fighting the weary feet; The soldiers come through the valley of pain, An ambush laid as they weep.
In sixteen fortnights not a soul was lost, But there in the forlorn plains, Twelve thousand will die, To rise to the final plane.
Off in the East, no soldier was found, Our lord called them home; The march was endless, the battle relentless, The snow to become their tomb.
Our gods have left us for more worthy men, But we drag on in bitter frost; To be with our wives, no matter the cost, We will return home from the East.
What happens next? I ask myself as time rushes, Eager to meet a day I dread.
How shall I prepare for this day? Should I come unforgiving With guns at the ready, Ready to face my doom? Or should I hold a cloud above my head And hope the lighting strikes me too soon?
I've been draphted into a war. One I know that I am going to lose. All I've done to prepare Is lock myself in a cage. Panicked and weeping Praying this would all go away.
Now I face the fact that this day will come anyway. And the battle will only last for a day. But the war will rage forever.
I fell on me head and slaughtered a shipmate along the way, then his body went down and hit the ground. and went right through the ship. _______________________________________________________________
