The Fallen of War
See those fields of red, where the poppies
grow,
over trampled grass, while the mourning
wind blows
Where the ghosts still walk, where their
bones still lie
Those legion of the fallen, under the cold
grey sky
The echo of footsteps tread in the raven’s
cry
chased in the gloaming by each mother’s sigh
Remember, remember they once stood as men,
below ashen clouds, beyond a stalwart when
Brothers forever, inscribed in their blood
side by side, through rain and through mud
Across chaos and smoke, that battlefield wide,
a crucible forge, where they lived and they
died
Only names remain, evermore etched in stone
Mortality’s relics, buried past dust and
bone
Our memories resonance, as the sun sets low
See those fields of red, where the poppies
grow
© A. F. Stewart 2016 All Rights Reserved
A beautiful, heartfelt tribute to the heroes of WWI.
ReplyDeleteThanks, Irina.
ReplyDelete