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Literature Text
Skies are burning
Beasties scream
Deryn's searching
Broken dream
No-longer-prince
Can't be found
Three hours since
Siren sound
Ashy rubble
Hides the life
Efforts double
Rueful strife
Shouting voices
Hopeless words
Bitter choices
Falling birds
"Give up, leave him."
Shoulders cave
All hope is dim
Cannot save
Loris chuckles,
"We," over din
Deryn's knuckles
Hit his chin
"Save each other."
How it works
One other
Of their quirks
Renewed searching
Muffled moan
Frantic digging
Then a groan
Dusty dark hair
Alek's found!
He's freed with care,
Safe and sound
First, "You bum-rag!"
Wept relief
Her shoulders sag
Worn by grief
Then, "I love you,"
And a kiss
He knew that too
"Can't miss this."
And still there's fire
It burns bright
The flames are dire
Light up the night
One life is saved
How many more?
Is England caved?
Will she soar?
Beasties scream
Deryn's searching
Broken dream
No-longer-prince
Can't be found
Three hours since
Siren sound
Ashy rubble
Hides the life
Efforts double
Rueful strife
Shouting voices
Hopeless words
Bitter choices
Falling birds
"Give up, leave him."
Shoulders cave
All hope is dim
Cannot save
Loris chuckles,
"We," over din
Deryn's knuckles
Hit his chin
"Save each other."
How it works
One other
Of their quirks
Renewed searching
Muffled moan
Frantic digging
Then a groan
Dusty dark hair
Alek's found!
He's freed with care,
Safe and sound
First, "You bum-rag!"
Wept relief
Her shoulders sag
Worn by grief
Then, "I love you,"
And a kiss
He knew that too
"Can't miss this."
And still there's fire
It burns bright
The flames are dire
Light up the night
One life is saved
How many more?
Is England caved?
Will she soar?
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For WWII, I planned from the beginning that I would do poetry. To me, something as expressive as poetry could really capture the horror of those times. I don't usually write poetry and this was hurried. Some of the rhythm seems off to me, but it's midnight and I have no time.
I really like this poem. It's in London after the Blitz, probably, and Alek's buried somewhere. Deryn keeps searching even when people tell her to stop. Because they save each other, that's how it works. In the end, I tried to zoom out and show that even though he was saved, the world was most definitely *not* saved too.
I do realize I rhymed similar words at different parts of the poem (save, cave, caved, saved) but I was running out of choices and time and syllables. It's supposed to be four syllables, then three, then four, then three, etc. so I didn't have many words I could use that fit and rhymed. Please forgive me! I'm an amateur poet.
Deryn, Alek, and Bovril (c) Scott Westerfeld
I really like this poem. It's in London after the Blitz, probably, and Alek's buried somewhere. Deryn keeps searching even when people tell her to stop. Because they save each other, that's how it works. In the end, I tried to zoom out and show that even though he was saved, the world was most definitely *not* saved too.
I do realize I rhymed similar words at different parts of the poem (save, cave, caved, saved) but I was running out of choices and time and syllables. It's supposed to be four syllables, then three, then four, then three, etc. so I didn't have many words I could use that fit and rhymed. Please forgive me! I'm an amateur poet.
Deryn, Alek, and Bovril (c) Scott Westerfeld
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Comments7
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My favorite part is the beginning. "Broken dream" "No-longer-prince" This poem is beautiful.