While...

While I wrote the love poem

I heard her fading footsteps –

Black ink on yellowing pages

Lasts longer with empty jokes;

While I fought for my friends

I saw them shifting company –

Sweat, blood, tears on fallen ground

Mix well with dirty slush;

While I wrote the last note

I prayed to them: ignore –

Or, battles and false verses and such

Wasteful ways will wear resolve;

While I fought for my life

I felt a gentle hand in mine –

Guiding me to new ways but

Without a heart, I let it slip.