The Art of The Damned One

[EHW]

For the Soldiers

Through France they marched,
Nestled into their bunkers deep,
Pinned by the German gun,
And artillery to lull them to sleep.

They fought for our freedom,
And that of all men,
And while their comrades fell,
Those men continued marching on.

And while in France they all remained,
They gave us the most beautiful display,
Treasure your freedom, given by British blood,
And remember the lives lost those days.
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Treasuring 90 years of support for the British Army this year, and dedicated to those who have given lives in every conflict from WW1, I hope this poem can help those people hurt by loss in the armed forces while at war.

I myself am upset for all the pain and suffering that many families are burdened with due to losses in Afghanistan, and hope that someday, we can all learn to live in unity. And I hope that my meagre donation of £5 this year can help someone in need, either an old veteran, a family awaiting their husband, wife, son, daughter, brother or sister, or even an ex-soldier no longer able to fight.

Please think of them all and truly treasure that kingly gift of freedom.

[EHW]

Just an update on things:

For anyone truly interested in my artwork, poetry, short stories, sprite-work (yes, I have some of that now too) and the like, they can look into it on my deviantART page - linked here. As of now, this topic is probably dead and shall remain so despite everything else.

Words of advice: for simple viewing pleasure, you may want to subscribe to deviantART and take off your Mature Content filter for a good portion of my gallery, as I took over-precautions and hid most of it behind a slightly mature tag in order to not get penalized by over-zealous admins or goody-two shoes. Therefore, about 40+% of my gallery is under the "mature" section, and therefore is unavailable to guests. Also, I don't have a particularly good update record, let alone a schedule, so I can sometimes go weeks on end without an update and then promptly release two or more new pieces in the span of five to fifteen minutes.

[EHW]

The City Burns...
(By ~e-herowindmaster, 2 minutes, 26s ago)
(Literature / Poetry / Horror / Free Verse)

I watch the city burn,
As all I know just crashes down,
My dreams, like ashes, float away,
As I watch the end of days,

Like tears of flame it falls from the skies,
And hits the planet before my very eyes,
Smouldering clouds of ash hit my face,
As I watch the city burn...

The metal dust, from buildings lands,
Upon the floor and in my hands,
As it drifts upon the wind,
From the work of human sin,

The nuclear fires, they rise and rise,
From the cracked blackened ground unto the skies,
And now I watch in bleak despair,
As I watch the city burn...

And I turn and see the magnitude of our sins,
As the world collapses during the end of all things,
And I duck under collapsed structures now,
And as I survive I wonder how,

I never managed to live my life at all,
And now never will with civilisations' fall,
That all I knew is useless now...
As I watch the city burn...

One last gasp is all I take,
Before choosing my final steps I'll make,
I make my way to the nearest space,
Stumbling, stumbling as I go at my own pace,

Open my arms, gaze to the stars,
Hoping beyond hope to see some message somewhere afar,
But all I see is tongues of flame as they descend,
And now I join the city as I burn...