Here are a few little things I wrote while I was on holiday and also at the beach. They may come from the heart or they may just be something I wrote, I’m not sure, I know one of them is from the heart but I will not say who it is about because I don’t like to point fingers. Anyway… Here they are.
New Dawn
I watch as night ends and the Sun rises,
my troubles of the night fade away.
The rising sun cleansing my soul of sin,
my thoughts of you never ending;
Never washed away in the shadow of the star.
The only problem with washing away the night
is a setting sun brings them forth again,
but these brief respites keep me going.
Thinking of you, all into the New Dawn.
By Lewis Stockton
-----------------------------------------------------------------
Give you my heart
It was only for a short time,
but I gave it my all.
I tried and pushed to make it work,
but it wasn't enough
I prayed that this would last forever,
but I was wrong.
You left me for him who you left for me,
was I nothing but a stepping stone?
I had hoped for something eternal,
but all come to an end.
I Gave you my Heart,
but you just gave me it back.
By Lewis Stockton
-----------------------------------------------------------------
Fight for the Lost
The skies were a light with fire,
our Angels fighting their Demons.
The Rumble of treads on the crushed bodies;
ever present in out ears.
My men are tired and my eyes start to close,
we cannot tire; Only the Dead can rest.
The 122nd are out there, holding the line,
so we can push forward; Searching.
We left them to die, some may yet live.
The Trap is sprung and we are caught,
War has reached us at last.
Now we fight to Survive;
Fighting for the Lost.
By Lewis Stockton
-----------------------------------------------------------------
Gravestone
Long lost to the world,
my bones turned to dust years before.
All that remains of me is lost in history,
family forgotten and friends long dead.
My valour and honour lost to time,
not even a name, just a number on a tally.
A Lump of stone the only inkling of a body;
the lettering long worn to the wind,
the stone half broken to time.
How many years has it been?
Since I fell on that field to the enemy of mine?
All that is left of me is a worn Gravestone,
nothing but a fragment of my soul;
long worn to the winds of time.
By Lewis Stockton
-----------------------------------------------------------------
