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

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