2005 Youth Poetry Winner
The Boy Warrior

 

Youth Category Grand Prize Winner

The Boy Warrior
By Kloude


Part I
Once upon a time
Years and years ago
There lived a boy not yet in his prime
Who went to battle

His age was of ten seasons gone
His fellow warriors never let him fight
Though he’d kneel and beg
From day ‘til night

‘Let me fight!
‘Oh please, oh please!
‘With all my might!
‘To make a name for me’

They would often laugh
‘Go son,’ they’d tell him heartily
‘We would not let you die
‘So young, so easily’

He would look up at them
With streaming bright stars for eyes
And tell them
‘Oh wretched you! Let me fight’

They would look down
With smiling faces
‘Oh young warrior ‘tis not your time to die so young’
Remembering themselves at his ages

One bright and sunny day
Which still was young
They came upon, in May
Their enemy’s realm


Part II
They looked in awe
At the warriors that thriced them easily
Ten to one of them even to their youngest fighter still
They would be defeated quickly

And out comes one
So large
They could not see the glaring hot sun
Behind his wide thick sword

He says to them
‘O you who fight
‘So little, so little
‘I pity you with all my heart

‘To fight alongside you, worries me
‘I would not want
‘To fight against this army
‘So great’

He laughed and laughed
Him so large and grand
Would be able to kill them all
With one mighty sweep of his hand

‘O you who is bold
‘Fight against me
‘So that I could mold
‘You like a bit of clay’

He looked at their frightened little faces
And spotted a boy of ten
So far behind
His face full of excitement like a little wren

‘Where is your bravery?
‘Come on, come on
‘Are you too frightened to fight me?
‘You cannot run to your mothers now’

While these dreadful words
Were heard everywhere
To their boldest one
The words gave despair


Part III
Meanwhile
In the very back of this minute army
Pushed a boy through file and file
Of frightened warriors

With a long light Arabian sword
That had two strong, sharp pointed tips
He prayed to his Lord
And pushed for what seemed like eternity

At last he jumped into the opening
Where the great big man stood
So grand; the boy showed no fear
As he looked out from under his hood


Part IV
The man looked down
Suddenly
To see a young boy
How could this be?

‘Here I am the one you called upon
‘To fight
‘The brave one’
Yelled the boy

He yelled so that
The great brute’s army
Could hear ‘You I dare
‘Come on fight me’

His people were shocked
For this boy
They were grieved
For him to meet his end in such a brutal way

The brute was dazed
He looked from the boy
To his sword
And from the little sword to the small boy


Part V
This evil warrior had a sword
With gems as big as the boys tiny fists
Beautified by silver and gold
No doubt it was strong and sharply made

While the boy held a dull steel blade
That was not beautified
Except for the carved wooden hilt
Yet he was full of pride

The hilt he had carved himself to fit his grip
With more than one word
Of God Almighty’s engraved on it
He charged forward


Part VI
‘How could this be?’ the man thought
He raised his head to the early morning sky
Laughing ‘til his soldiers laughed with him
Laughing his head held high

But suddenly
His laughter was cut short
He looked down to see
A sword

A sword with two sharp tips
Enter his heart
He will never forget
Those two eyes so bright

The eyes that showed that he feared
Nothing only hatred, the man couldn’t breathe
With his last breath he sneered
His un-foretold death took its toll


Part VII
His men were also cut short
From their merriment and much loved strife
To see a boy not yet a man
End a life

The life of a man so great
A warrior like none other
But it was much too late
This warrior was now history

This warrior who had killed
Everything that crossed his path
Human or beast
They never, alive, escaped his wrath

‘How could this be?’
They asked in wonder
If this little child he
Had no fear to drive his blade killing their leader

So hear, oh hear
If this young one is so bold
How would then be those men
Thrice his seasons old?

They were struck with horror and fear
As their leader fell to the ground dead
They turned and fled swearing they could hear
The boy’s cheers haunt them to their dying day.

 

 

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