CRVEntry

Cerv's Entry for the book writing contest. This is a collection of Poems i've written IRL over the past years. They were mostly written during my time in Afghanistan, Sudan, Mali and volunteer service in eastern europe.

None of these are particulary good or anything but were dumped into my small little paper notebook at that time. they are in no real order nor context to each other. Questions regarding time, date, location or context to the individual poems will be ignored Enjoy!

TheDoor I opened the door, and time stood still, A child's face framed by the cold and the chill. Eyeswide with fear, or courage, or both, A trembling hand breaking my oath The gun it raised was too heavy to bear, yet in its shadow, I gasped for Air.

A heartbeat passed a choice, a command, the weight of death in a tiny hand. and then The silence fell, loud as a scream, Shattering hope, unravelling the dream. i knelt in the dust, my soul torn apart. A childs shadow etched

into my heart. I whisper now, in the ashes and pain, farewell, young soul, lost to the flame. Myou find peace where i cannot tread, In a world untouched by the blood we've shed.

Windows to the barricade I hold my pen like a rifle tight. tight, A soldier still fighting, though out of sight. The ink bleeds truths i dare not share, but in these lines, i lay them bare. Each verse a viewport into my mind

A window to demons ive left confined. Locked behind a soldier's steel Yet here in ink i let them feel. The scream of mortar the thunder of guns Echo in stanzas where silence runs. I write of comrades who never returned, and battles foiught though no flags burned

My poems a valve for sorrows tide, An outlet for wounds i cannot hide. They see things i wont allow, the scars i carry the oaths i vow. But will they grasp this fractured frame? This burden borne in dutys name? Or will they see just words on a page?

A soldiers grief, a poets cage? For now i write though words may fail to paint the depths of this fragile veil These lines are my gift my curse my plea A fleeting glimpse of the war in me

Good or Evil Am I the hammer or am I the nail? The questions haunt, the answers pale. I swore an oath, my loyalty clear, Yet doubt creeps close, a shadow near. Is this what it means to serve the right? to snuff out lives

in the name of might? What victory blooms from the seeds I sow? What justice comes from the blood that flows? I see the faces, the lives I’ve stilled, Each one a story that I’ve unfilled. They haunt my dreams, they call my name, Their echoes branding

my soul with their name. When I stand one day at the pearly gate, And face the weight of my chosen fate, What will I say when the ledger is read, When my deeds rise up from the countless dead? Will the answer come

in a voice so pure, Or silence fall, vast and unsure? Is the path I walk ordained by grace, Or just the scars of a world misplaced? Beneath the moon, beneath the sky, I march with doubt, I march and cry. For a soldiers burden is not the fight

but the endless question is this right?

The Question When my boots tread the ashen ground, And silence wraps the world around, Will the Devil rise, his hand outstretched, Or recoil from the soul he etched? Will Death, that thief with hollow stare, Greet me like one beyond repair?

Or will he falter, scythe in hand, Before the ruin I command? For I am their craft, their grim design, A weapon forged in fire and time. Each drop of blood, each whispered wail, A testament to how they fail.

Am I their kin, their chosen son, The proof of battles never won? Or am I wrath they can’t contain, The shadow born of their disdain? Devil, Death—do you not see, The monster you have made of me?

And when I come to claim my place, Will fear or pride distort your face? I am your heir, your legacy, The war you waged through men like me. So answer now, and make it true Did i create hell, or did hell create you?

A passage of time: Another year 366 days, a cycle complete, Each second carved, each moment bittersweet. More than half spent on foreign soil, unknown, Defending lands that will never be home.

Tik tok, the clock takes its toll 45… How long must I keep this burden alive? I’ve wandered to places I’d never dreamed, Seen horrors that cut and joy that beamed. Done deeds I’d wish no one to repeat,

In darkness, where guilt and shadows meet. But even in sorrow, a flicker remains, The light persists, though fleeting and faint. Tik tok, another step 46…

Thirteen nations, thirteen lands, Cultures of life, of fate’s cruel hands. Some I embraced, their stories I knew, Others destroyed, their hopes subdued. Deserts, jungles, ruins of stone, Worlds erased, to none their own.

To some, we came as salvation’s grace, A lifeline to flee this forsaken place. To others, we bore the ferryman’s grin, Guiding their souls for my life’s sin. Tik tok, the hours pass 47…

Two hundred seventy lives—or was it more? The tally’s blurred, the memories sore. Each breath ceased, each cry cut short, Their faces haunt my nightly court. Perhaps it’s 300, or even 400 now,

A toll unseen, yet heavy somehow. The ferryman smiles; I pay my due, My wandering life, the devil’s skew. Tik tok, the minutes fade 48… 49… 50…

Five brothers gone, their debts now mine, Two especially etched, their absence defined. Michael… Artur… we laughed, we played, Then mourned in silence where laughter decayed. Would it have been me? The thought won’t stay, For nothing would alter the chosen way.

We were one, a perfect whole, In life, in loss, in shared soul. Tik tok, 51… 52… 53…

I miss you both in ways words betray, But promise me, brothers, to light my way. From your watch above, keep your gaze, Until we reunite in endless days. Tik tok, 54…

The faces scream, the voices cry, The payment due cannot deny. The ferryman waits with greedy grin, For the year’s harvest, my soul within. But I let them rise, give them their voice, A moment to mourn, their fleeting choice.

Tik tok, 55… I close my eyes—“Come forth, scream loud! Shatter my walls, break through the shroud!” Five minutes, I yield, I open the gate, For the dead to howl, for ghosts to sate.

They ravage my mind, take their toll, Their departure carves a jagged hole. Tik tok, 56… 57… 58… 59… Midnight tolls, the world spins anew, A year begins, the ledger too. I rebuild my walls, brick by brick

Each one heavy, my mind grows thick. How many more? I cannot say, But I’ll carry the weight for another day. For this is my pact, my burden to bear, The cost of the life I choose to wear.

Tik tok, the clock resumes its rhyme, A soldier’s soul, one step at a time. This shall be all for this one. fitting these into a minecraft book made me realise my "poems" are way too fcking long but eh I hope whoever read

these had at least some positive thoughts about em. I appreciate you whoever clicked so far into this.