Soldier Farewell Poems | Examples
These Soldier Farewell poems are examples of Farewell poems about Soldier. These are the best examples of Farewell Soldier poems written by international poets.
In the avenues of dreamland,
I met Orwell, who said:
“Man has not awakened.
He still bows to his servants,
who crown themselves as masters,
and he still claps while they rob him blind.”
Look around you:
presidents who eat for free,
live for free, travel for free—
and still plunder the treasury.
Meanwhile, you—their keepers—
starve, and cheer them on.
This is not democracy.
It is a farm of animals
where the pigs dictate the commandments,
erasing truth at night,
and you accept the lies by morning.
The soldier you fear,
the policeman you obey—
they are slaves too,
serving the same master who despises them.
For centuries you have tolerated theft,
you have swallowed corruption,
you have watched kings born from your own apathy.
And still you wait for salvation,
as if it will be handed to you.
But know this:
Power respects only power.
What you allow will continue.
What you fear will govern you.
And what you refuse to confront
will one day consume you whole.
So I ask—
not as prophet, not as poet,
but as a mirror to your cowardice:
When will the people stop behaving like sheep
and finally slaughter the pigs?
(From1)
Snowflakes whisper peace, in Frozen air,
Echoes of battle, comrade beyond repair.
(Form2)
Alone I stand, in snowy vastness wide,
Blood- soaked memories, my comrade demise.
(Form3)
Before me, snow's pure silence deep,
Behind crimson shadows, comrades sleep.
~Byeol
There is a place where soldiers go
And in this place, we see row after row
Of people who paid the supreme price
And for that we should remember their sacrifice
They did their duty
So, we won’t have to see the world’s cruelty
For that their life was cut short
Just so we can live in comfort
So please remember when we think of our lives
Remember all those soldiers in the afterlife.
In dress uniform,
Well-trained for combat,
Which could not compare,
With the task at hand.
Sitting on his knee,
His brown-eyed daughter,
Whose eyes filled with tears,
As she made her plea.
“Please, don’t go, Daddy,”
She cried, “Please don’t go.
I’m your little girl
And I love you so.”
Choking back his tears,
Trying to be brave,
How could he explain,
What could not be said?
Right words would not come,
And nothing could drown,
The words of his child,
That pearl in his arms.
“Please, don’t go, Daddy.
Mommy is sad, too.
Don’t leave us alone.
We want you at home.”
Aunque el deber
te dicte hoy
otro camino.
Y al estar solo
busques el refugió
de un nuevo nido.
Prometeme
qué aún volverás,
tesoro mío.
Confirma tu regreso,
con ese
apasionado beso.
Y como velero fiel,
lucharás contra
marea y viento,
para anclar nuevamente
en tú amado puerto.
Tú por mi, regresarás.
Cobijame
con las llamas
de pasión intensa
que guardas
en tu pecho.
Para que mi llanto seque
y así pueda escuchar
la oscura y
triste novedad.
Brindemos
por el adiós,
que no sea eterno.
Con vino rojo y dulce,
del bueno.
Aunque cada buche
traiga hoy amargura,
al recibir la triste
y agria realidad.
Regalame
ese valor intenso
qué otorga tu mirada.
Porque
solo tú imagen
puede alimentar
mis sueños.
Así podré sentir
algo de felicidad.
Consuelame,
con la esperanza
de tú voz, que anclada
frente a Dios,
promete tu regreso.
Porqué aunque
despedazado
hoy queda él corazón,
siempre te esperará.
It is a fine day to laze in the grass
And to think about that beautiful lass.
Her pretty eyes are lit with laughing fire
And she fills me with impassioned desire.
Alas, in this green field I cannot stay.
I must rise and go and be on my way.
Hardships behind and many to the fore.
How far must I go to settle the score?
It may be long and long ere I get home,
For far and far life has lead me to roam.
Time and time I have studied to go there
And day and day drink in familiar air.
I stand and pick up my gun and my pack,
Setting my feet to the long winding track.
Will she be there when I am home again?
Or, will I have to find another, then?
A man is not a man when he observes
His nation attacked and himself reserves.
He must make a strong stand against evil,
Or see all destroyed in the upheaval.
I may lose too much as an absentee,
But this is for those who come after me
I want their future to be free from fear
And have the kind of life I hold so dear.
It is a poet who sings
It's a writer who tells
His stories.
It is an author who expresses himself
He is a speaker of the highest esteems
Who review the sad memoirs.
He is a brave man who externalizes himself
It is a poet who analyzes
Actions, fictions and facts.
It's a brother who fights
It's a soldier in the middle of a proxy war
Who preaches harmony, love and peace.
Copyright © May 2019, Hébert Logerie, All rights reserved.
Hébert Logerie is the author of several collections of poetry.
The brave son goes off to war
visions of victory in his eyes
His father mouths a tender goodbye
turns away ~ breaks down and cries
________________________________
Talked to my son, who was on the Gaza
border, just before his phone was locked
up and he went into combat.
Reserve
When the dam breaks,
there will be no flood.
There will be no rushing water,
to run from.
It has all been drank,
or wasted on pretty plants,
that have no editable value at all.
The people will go thirsty,
then they will go hungry,
in ways they have never gone before.
They will cry for their children,
they will fight for them.
But they will use no weapon at all.
They will talk,
and walk,
and hold signs...
that they can not drink or eat,
until they starve.
Bring more people here,
let the gates open wide,
we don't even want to hide.
We want to tell the world we are "good",
and not "bad" people.
But all people are inherently bad,
and you can not work your way to heaven...
Anger, when there is no other emotion,
to take its place, will reign
on this earth.
Be kind and remember,
we are born just alike.
We are not you and me,
or they are them.
We are together,
in the same place,
at the same time.
Soon we will all be before the throne,
and home, or on our way to hell.
The Enlistment
David J Walker
As if a brave character in
A sad play he marched
In heavy boots to the old bus station
Feigning courage in the face of
Every uncertainty
Counting on the five fears
a soldier tries to hide
from anyone who asks why
His life is not his own
Maybe he'll come home
only if he’s lucky
and someone
else isn’t
I'll soon be home Mum,
The soldier said.
You be careful, son,
His mother said.
I'll be fine over there,
The soldier said.
Just you be watchful,
His mother said.
I have to go now, Mum,
The soldier said.
Come home soon son,
His mother cried.
Her tears soon fell,
As the news she received.
He's beside his Dad,
Neath the earth and leaves.
© Dave Timperley 05/11/2021- Lest we forget.
Squiggle a sketch of me
Before the dawn appears
And i move on with flocks
Salute me with the best salutation you can
May be this is the last memory we share
And seperation is destined
The caravans are on the way
Look into my eyes
You see no fear and my hands won't tremble
War and love both are important
Kiss my forehead
And hug me a farewell
May be ,this is the last romance
Chants of victory
you will hear before dusk
May be i will not come back
Don't moisten your eyes and regret not
Its not betrayal
Moments of love are often short
If some one brings you the news of my death
You should not believe
Rather celebrate the victory
Surely i shall have spilled my blood
Don't count me in stars
Search me in your heart
I will be there forever, alive
And those western winds
Carry my soul
Honour them with smiles
And don't be sad
This will be the last salutation for sure
There goes the water where we find all the fish
There goes the earth where we grow all the food
There goes an ideological wish
Another tenet of Darwin, misconstrued
China Syndrome
Melting and melting into the ground
China Syndrome
Burning and burning all the way down
There goes a coal miner trying to help
Another sad soldier with soot on his face
There goes an agency that must mean well
They've sent back his remains in a six-foot case
There goes a forest gone belly-up
There goes a species without a bed
The sun won't shine, the winter won't let up
Fallout bakes the fields that once gave bread
China Syndrome…
There goes the water where we find all the fish
There goes the earth where we grow all the food
There goes an ideological wish
Another child of Darwin, torn from the brood
He was more invaluable to his country
than his own precious life,
how could a glorious and promising
youth with a gorgeous face
with a voice not made to chant,
and with golden curly hair be sent
to war when his slender and feeble
body wasn't ready for battle,
for the horrors, he had never seen,
or even imagined in awful dreams...
would the splashing blood cover his cheeks,
would the merciless and hateful faces
of the enemy make him run?
A camouflage uniform
makes a soldier stand out
and get admiration for his vocation,
and those looks mean a lot
to him as they meant
to the youngest soldier
ever being drafted to fight in a war;
would his grit and dedication
diminish when confronting fear?
Would he mistake a thunder
from a cannon blast,
and retreat to his tent and shake,
or remain on the battlefield and persist?
What does a soldier think
when engaged in warfare or training?
No need to ask about his mindset:
he's willing to defend his honor
and valor, and furthermore his oath
made on the sad day of parting
when he stopped being a teen
and became a full-grown man...
having motivation and worth,
showing emotions so keen!
A soldier boy was calling me
His faint whispers heard around
But sadly he was surrounded by many
Of other dying soldiers on the ground.
I stepped into the masses
And tread carefully where I stood
Incase I hurt the injured soldiers
Treading as careful as I could.
So many heroes fallen
In a battle field they lay
No war being won whilst dying
In the mass destruction that they lay.
But I walked on slowly
As I followed the soldiers voice
If I only saved the one life
It would be of bitter choice.
I reached the injured party
And held him in my arms
As gently I caressed his dying body
As I heard his screams in his alarms
But his eyes were soon to grow heavy
As he fell asleep upon my chest
A true heroic soldier
Who fought in war and sis his upmost best.
By Anna Sabrina Tate 29th August 2019.