I: Thelonius II, Pawn of Black
Nov. 3rd, 2008 12:24 pm![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png)
So here's what I have of the first part so far! I'm actually not far off from finishing, and I like the structure so far. I'm not sure if the structure will vary from character to character, because it is a poem in multiple parts... anyway, those are thoughts for later! Meet Thelonius II.
Tall and built like a lance he stands
First time on the front line
There is no shame in being a Pawn
Grandfather, Thelonius I, had told him.
Now Thelonlius II has answered the family call
The pride in his heart
Quells the shaking in his knees
There is honor in the first line of defense.
Pike in hand, he marches with the sons and daughters
Peasant-folk of sturdy character
Laid down their plows and their trowels
To sharpen axes instead.
"First time on the line?"
The old timer speaks with metal in his eyes
And rust in his voice. Thelonius II stands straighter,
Making himself even taller.
"But not the last," the brave words of youth.
The old timer lets the the boy stand
Waiting for the horn to sound shrill tones
As the enemy approaches.
The Army of White; the dust on the field
The Army of White makes fire in their hands
The Army of White; the air is so thick
He keeps them at a distance, his weapon
A shield so he can't see their eyes
The young Black Pawns are falling;
Grandfather never told him it was like this.
"Steady ahead!" from the back
"Keep watch for the Knights!" from the front
But Thelonius II chants of honor to himself
Lest he run back home at the first chance
Do only; don't think
He lets the pike guide him, never wincing
When it connects. White robes flutter
before they settle on the dusty ground.
"Fall back, fall BACK!" but he keeps moving forward
A Pawn is a Pawn to the end of the field
Thelonius II remembers long white hair
Before he realizes he's fallen and all is dark
The Army of Black; the dirt on the pavement
The Army of Black makes machines with their hands
The Army of Black; the smoke is so thick
Tall and built like a lance he stands
First time on the front line
There is no shame in being a Pawn
Grandfather, Thelonius I, had told him.
Now Thelonlius II has answered the family call
The pride in his heart
Quells the shaking in his knees
There is honor in the first line of defense.
Pike in hand, he marches with the sons and daughters
Peasant-folk of sturdy character
Laid down their plows and their trowels
To sharpen axes instead.
"First time on the line?"
The old timer speaks with metal in his eyes
And rust in his voice. Thelonius II stands straighter,
Making himself even taller.
"But not the last," the brave words of youth.
The old timer lets the the boy stand
Waiting for the horn to sound shrill tones
As the enemy approaches.
The Army of White; the dust on the field
The Army of White makes fire in their hands
The Army of White; the air is so thick
He keeps them at a distance, his weapon
A shield so he can't see their eyes
The young Black Pawns are falling;
Grandfather never told him it was like this.
"Steady ahead!" from the back
"Keep watch for the Knights!" from the front
But Thelonius II chants of honor to himself
Lest he run back home at the first chance
Do only; don't think
He lets the pike guide him, never wincing
When it connects. White robes flutter
before they settle on the dusty ground.
"Fall back, fall BACK!" but he keeps moving forward
A Pawn is a Pawn to the end of the field
Thelonius II remembers long white hair
Before he realizes he's fallen and all is dark
The Army of Black; the dirt on the pavement
The Army of Black makes machines with their hands
The Army of Black; the smoke is so thick