Draft in the author’s style. This poem was written for Poet in the Battlefield to sit beside the author’s own readings, and is waiting for the author’s review. The commentary is a working draft too.
I fell in the last second of the round, with the enemy at the door,
And the screen went grey, and I thought I would not rise to fight once more.
But a voice inside my headset said, we've got you, count to three,
And the timer ticked, and I came back with a second wind, set free.
I gathered up my weapons and I stepped back through the gate,
With my squad beside me shouting, come on, it is not too late.
For every fall is a starting point for those who will not yield,
And a warrior who respawns is a warrior of the field.
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Commentary
A video-game battle has its own kind of courage. This eight-line epic turns the moment of being knocked out into a lesson on getting back up.
The player “fell in the last second of the round, with the enemy at the door,” and “the screen went grey.” A “voice inside my headset said, we’ve got you, count to three,” and after the timer ticks, the player comes back “with a second wind.”
With “my squad beside me shouting, come on, it is not too late,” the player steps back “through the gate.” The poem ends, “every fall is a starting point for those who will not yield.”