
Thursday, April 19, 2007
Anthem for Doomed Youth
What passing-bells for those that die as cattle?
Only the monstrous anger of the reds.
Only the stuttering pens' messy scrabble
Can patter out their hasty orisons
No mockeries for them from capitals or bolds,
Nor any voice of mourning save the choirs, -
The shrill, demented choirs of wailing scolds;
And bugles calling for them from sad shires.
What candles may be held to speed them all?
Not in the hands of children, but their eyes
Shall shine the holy glimmers of good-byes.
The blankness of white scripts shall be their pall;
Their doodles the tenderness of crazy minds,
And each slow dusk a drawing-down of blinds.
Never mind that I've just desecrated one of Wilfred Owen's best works, I doubt he would be happy either, seeing how badly we detest his works for the enormous mental torture it has inflicted upon us. Irreversible psychological damage, sigh. Doomed to fail our lit test, what a wasted studenthood, ahh.
2L @
10:19 PM
"Sorry also must exprain"
------------
BahChorMeeMan
Says:
Move on?
Move on your si lang
tau ah....
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