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To: Lazamataz; Monkey Face; sionnsar
"I won’t be satisfied unless this becomes an Undead Thread."

That isn't up to me, but I can help you kill it.

Allow me to recite my poem, "Blue Against The Gray".

Ahem ... (That's me clearing my throat ...)

240 posted on 05/03/2010 4:43:16 PM PDT by NicknamedBob (If we did not believe we could not die, we would never do the things that make us immortal.)
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To: Lazamataz; sionnsar; Monkey Face
And taking a deep breath ...



Blue Against The Gray

The battle rages onward; the Blue against the Gray!
No one can tell which side will be triumphant on this day!
For Blue was in ascendancy, when morning light arose,
But Gray has come a-gathering, and stands in silent rows.

The darkening skies brood menacingly, and evil seems afoot,
While all the azure bands have let their marching orders put,
Safe distance from the nemesis. They leave the field in haste.
No need before these numbers for their purity to waste.

Behold a view of constant Gray from East across to West,
No red is seen within the bands, and so, perhaps that’s best.
The Gray encampment settles in, and rain begins to fall.
No Blue is seen for miles around as if beyond a wall.

As darkness comes some light appears in flashes from the camp,
A sodden night of misery awash in constant damp.
By morning it has spent itself, and in the dark of night,
The Gray has slipped in silence from the field without a fight.

Beyond the hill appears the first of radiant Blue and Gold,
The army of the future guarantees it will unfold,
A calm and brilliant day unfurls as if emerging from a dream,
As sunshine bakes the moisture from the hill in wisps of steam.

The Blue will win the day today, but just before the night,
The clouds of disguised Grays will rise, like ships hove into sight,
And yet another battle from horizon to its brother,
Will silently unfold just as one day becomes another.

The Blues and Grays must struggle on forever, so it seems.
As sunshine burns the steam that falls as tears into the streams,
And weary crowds of stumbling ghosts trek onward as they must,
Until the last sad witness has surrendered to the dust.

NicknamedBob . . . . . . . . . . . . . . January 25, 2006




241 posted on 05/03/2010 4:58:22 PM PDT by NicknamedBob (If we did not believe we could not die, we would never do the things that make us immortal.)
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