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The Best Go Out In A Blaze Of Glory Poems

Details | Go Out In A Blaze Of Glory Poem |

Life Is Mortal Combat


Life Is Mortal Combat
By Rick Rucker

Life is mortal combat, sorry for the name,
Life is mortal combat, and I do not mean the game!

It starts out rather meekly, just as we are born,
But it gets far tougher, as we are old and worn!

At a time when we could use all our remaining power,
Life cruelly throws all she has got at us, in our final hour!

For my money, I would rather die a lion, than to die a sheep,
To go out in a blaze of glory, than to sneak out, in my sleep!

Rather fight a duel, to the death, in the blazing light,
Than to cry and shake, a coward, through the long and lonely night!

When I see Saint Peter, I will say that I was not always right,
But I will wager that Death knew he was in a terrific fight!

Details | Go Out In A Blaze Of Glory Poem |

What Happens In Vegas

Just another Sunday on the Sunset Strip
Where a country concert had taken a grip
People had flocked from all around
To listen to their favourite sound
Josh and his buddies were up on stage
Their twangling guitars did the audience engage
Many in the crowd were singing along
With every plaintive and pert song
No happier scene in any mind's eye
Would,later recalled,fetch a contented sigh
This was the show they had saved to attend
This was sadly where for many it would all end.

High overhead in his hotel room
A tortured mind had prepared  their doom
His road trip to Mandalay
Was filled with intent to slay
A plan that had long festered in his brain
To contemplate inflicting untold pain
All around him lay guns and ammo
Ready to put an end  to this happy show
He coldly and cruelly bided his time
Before choosing the moment  to commit his crime
Once he had them in his sights
Then began their panic stricken flight.

His staccato typewriter spelled out fear,pain and death
In vain many scattered,stood stock still and held their breath
Down they went,falling under his relentless fire
Stunned,shaken and shot in their country attire
Glee must have been dancing in his twisted head
At seeing so many of his targets lying dead.

What was it  that flipped this quiet man's  switch within
To trigger the  damnable  flaw of original sin?
Did Stephen Paddock yearn to go out in a blaze of glory?
Was it that which fuelled this so tragic story?
Before  he turned his weapon against his own life,
Did he then  regret causing such avoidable strife?

Sibylline in their veracity
Were the words of the prophecy
That the crowd would perish that very night
Before the speaker was hustled out of sight
If a shiver went through those who heard
They dismissed her as being just weird
Predictably ignoring her rambling warning 
The report echoing in the headlines next morning