A silence lives there which hangs in the air
a cloak of despair made for each soldier to wear
A sough wind sighs unspoken words in weary eyes
And wasted youth dies for long forgotten lies
They stagnate in cloying mud
Ingrained with veins of brotherly blood
This silence mid the shells and frenzied yells
tolling death knells in private hells,
Lives far away from the battle’s affrays
In memories of halcyon summer days
Where lovers’ lips sweet words impart
And home fires burn inside the heart
Carnage all around, they hear no sound
As heartbeats pound in bodies bound
In chains of fear, on hell’s frontier
death lurking near haunting fields so drear
the night turns bleak and bitter with cold
they stand resolute, so staunch and bold
And ask themselves one question,’’ Why?
Why is this the place we have to die?
As they walk through the valley
of the shadow of death
They know they soon will draw their last breath.
Note: I love to write poetry, but have only ever written it once here the only other time I participated.
This prompt spoke to me and I wanted to reverse it as rather than something which is unreal being disturbing, something that is real and so terrible it seems unreal. For me, wars are one of these things. Thanks for reading.
a cloak of despair made for each soldier to wear
A sough wind sighs unspoken words in weary eyes
And wasted youth dies for long forgotten lies
They stagnate in cloying mud
Ingrained with veins of brotherly blood
This silence mid the shells and frenzied yells
tolling death knells in private hells,
Lives far away from the battle’s affrays
In memories of halcyon summer days
Where lovers’ lips sweet words impart
And home fires burn inside the heart
Carnage all around, they hear no sound
As heartbeats pound in bodies bound
In chains of fear, on hell’s frontier
death lurking near haunting fields so drear
the night turns bleak and bitter with cold
they stand resolute, so staunch and bold
And ask themselves one question,’’ Why?
Why is this the place we have to die?
As they walk through the valley
of the shadow of death
They know they soon will draw their last breath.
Note: I love to write poetry, but have only ever written it once here the only other time I participated.
This prompt spoke to me and I wanted to reverse it as rather than something which is unreal being disturbing, something that is real and so terrible it seems unreal. For me, wars are one of these things. Thanks for reading.
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