Wednesday, June 29, 2011

WHEN THE TRUMPETS BLOW | POEATREEMAN on Xanga






       

  • When the Trumpets Blow


    I hear
    The echoes of a call

    That once was loud
    Now seems gone

    Calling back
    To be
    Remembered.


    Dare
    I wake them up at all

    Or should I keep them
    Where they are

    In
    The Triumphs of the past

    Where they're held
    In Fond Remembrance?


    Dare
    I beckon to the call

    Of The Trumpets
    Blowing strongly

    Calling back
    For me to answer

    Or can
    I Reach where I was

    Then
    On top of it all?


    Or will
    I Fail and Lose it all

    With
    The Triumphs of before

    Or be Remembered
    For my Feats

    Because
    I Could not
    Face Defeat?


    What purpose
    Do I serve?


    In this Quest
    For going on

    To Come back
    Once more

    To Hear
    The Trumpets
    Blowing?

     
    Will I
    Serve it or myself?


    For Do
    I have
    The Strength
    I need

    To overcome
    All I must

    Knowing
    I Could Fail?


    Most of all
    To myself


    Do
    I have
    The will in me

    if
    I answer
    Yes,
    Is it all
    I need?


    For what is it
    That I want

    To Prove myself
    To Whom or What?


    Written for And Dedicated to
    @Sugar Ray Leonard

    Edgar Allan Prieto
    Dec 15,1983
    A Poeatreeman
    The Greatness of  Oneself
    Is to Triumph over Evil
    For Goodness is the Fight
    You must Win
    The Rounds are not Ten
    It is Minutes to the End.
       
       
    A Poet’ Note

    THE CROWN
    Oh how I would love
    To recover the crown
    It’s hard to regain
    When
    life is wearing it now.
    From A Play of Words
    A Poeatreeman
    6/26/2007

    Copyright ©2007 Edgar Allan Prieto





WHEN THE TRUMPETS BLOW | POEATREEMAN on Xanga

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