The Cry Of War

By: Darkpoet

A cry is screamed, a life is lost,

Doomed for eternity at what cost?

The soldier veers his cutlass blade,

A throat is slit, a grave is made.


A sword stabs, deeper and deeper,

Another soul, for the grim reaper.

The roar of clashing rusty metal,

Echoes from a poppy’s petal.


An archer shoots an arrow of fire,

While warriors battle in a muddy mire.

A pike man throws his only spear,

While the horror of death sheds a tear.


A ghost field, baron and forgotten,

Dead bodies lie bleeding and rotten.

The field saturated with guts and blood,

The only thing left is the soil and mud.


By Tom Womack

CRYOFWAR
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