Author's Note: This was written for the Starvation's monthly prompt. this month was "Epic" and so I wrote an epic poem. Thank you very much to librarylemming for betaing this piece :D
Now this was inspired by Beowulf, written in Shakespearean Sonnet format with the characteristics of an Epic defined by Aristotle. I fail at iambic pentameter, so don't judge me on that. Also everywhere you see a "." its to break up the stanzas since messes with my formatting, and without seeing the stanzas you completely lose the sonnets.
I'm not SuCo, hope you all like, remember to leave a review please.
Muse I seek often,
let my words flow clear,
rushing from my pen.
Grant power to bear
tasks of our hero.
For him, our hearts care.
May he beat our foes,
for lives lost unfair.
Sadness flows with tears,
with injury comes pain.
Let triumph bring cheers,
freedom breaks the chain.
But lives won and lost,
with war comes a cost.
.
Bullets rained down,
shrieking filled the air,
no one wears the crown.
She'd been in his care,
no harm befalls her.
His body, her shield.
Were his pains the cure?
They got to this field,
but how'd he get here?
How'd his life begin
forcing these new fears.
Was life forgotten?
He was a Hawthorne,
courage never torn.
.
Just a simple boy,
not someone's to use,
nor be their poor toy.
He will never lose.
His life starts in old.
Father's eyes were bright,
winter's night was cold.
Labor pains a fright.
A baby boy born,
in a blizzard's hail.
Joy to the Hawthornes,
his name would be Gale.
Standing on his feet
soon, monsters he'll greet.
.
Life never easy,
but life none the less.
He becomes queasy,
death, he must confess,
takes his father's life,
leaving him alone,
his family in strife.
Hungry until light shone
on tracks in the snow.
The traps he would need
to stop family's woe
so that they may feed.
There he met Katniss,
friendship he will miss.
.
It seemed okay,
for a little while.
Food without delay,
occasional smile.
Time seemed care free,
but still it's unfair.
Anger could not be,
yell, he did not dare.
Katniss knew his pain,
she heard his anger.
Like a bloody stain,
the whip meant danger.
Rebel from the start,
painfully too smart.
.
She played their games,
ignoring their rules.
They both won the fame,
both acted like fools,
Peeta and Katniss.
The whip on his back.
The shock of their kiss.
Anger turned black,
the fear turned to shock,
eyes wide as a doe's,
all threats heard; tick tock.
War's starting its throes.
Bombs fell from the sky,
but it's do, not die.
.
"Run, run now!" he cried.
"We'll be okay, just go,"
to some he lied.
Sanctuary in the meadow.
"Pull the chain fence down,"
he called to them all,
eyes hard, mouth a frown
ignoring shrill calls.
He'd be a hero,
saving District Twelve,
thwarting their worst foe,
a prize on his shelves.
Now, the boy has plans,
shows them he's a man.
.
Simple, was saving
those he did care for.
Fools were maddening;
love; hate; to her core.
He did what he could,
for her, everyone
down below the wood.
His burdens a ton.
With father's spirit,
his mind a jumble,
he could still clear it
while staying humble.
Straight he kept his eyes,
victor, not demise.
.
He saved the blond fool.
Fights with blood on white,
dungeons dark and cool.
He would do what's right.
Solid gun in hand,
allies at his back.
Return to their land,
fleeing from attack.
He'd train, not get praise
to be a soldier.
Others were just braze,
he was gold for sure.
Strength of an army,
mind of scholarly.
.
The attack was his.
The Nut fell to Gale.
Boiling power would fizz.
Their lights slowly pale.
Prove himself again,
pushed to the camera front,
wasted on promos then.
Just a fake gallant,
but he did not lie.
Just a forced icon,
warrior on the sly.
For justice, push on.
Fight is the baiter,
Mourning comes later.
.
Fire, bombs, they all fell.
Blood, bodies, all 'round.
She came to this hell,
the angel's countdown.
She was innocent.
Her death killed the two.
Prim's spirit was spent,
Katniss' left too.
At serious loss,
the war had been won.
Marked with a cross,
bodies, not just one.
Last arrow fired,
soldiers now tired.
.
Life had to go on.
Others returned home,
but Gale moved on,
he thought he would roam.
Finding District Two
his purpose was there,
and Johanna too.
Soon, children to share
when his family grows.
Remembering friends
they return, he knows,
to all make amends.
A true man to see,
he would always be.
.
He followed his head,
not his foolish heart.
Early on he bled,
love is sweet but tart.
Wisdom can bring great pain
your loved ones can too,
if there's more to gain.
Life never misrules.
Actions remembered.
For times to follow.
our lives are anchored,
souls never hollow.
His life will still go,
Our gray-eyed hero.