Triumph Has a Hard Shell by Aldas Krūminis

Defeat fatigue’s cry that soars above you

High. Victory and loss are fleeing

Your purpose, now complete. Temporary.

You look above you at the blood-drenched sky

And reflect on the fate you struggled for.

 

Falcons crown over your triumph and the battle ground.

But you halt, pause, reflect. Is your sacrifice

Futile? You adjust your shoulders and puff your chest,

Push your pride high to meet the cry.

 

Tall, stiff uniforms mark this ground.

Blood flows free, under the broken hollow graves.

Is there pride in your achieve? You wonder, as

Fatigued fate falls futile under your feet.

 

Triumph has a hard shell,

But a softer centre still.

 

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Aldas Krūminis is currently studying for an MA in Creative Writing at Loughborough University. He was a student blogger for www.milkround.com and is one of the LSU Label Magazine editors. In his free time he writes poetry, short stories and dreams of one day publishing a book.

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