A mound of earth, far from home
my own paradise given-
A monument to a son in war-
sleep the sleep forever driven.
I hear the thunder as I fall
sense the mangled bones I cover-
Pain, that trickles like a waterfall
stem the tears that hover.
Black the cold surrounding me,
life that’s eager to let go-
memories of a face still haunting
in a place I used to know.
Battle over, battle won,
feet this field has left undone-
faced its beauty, displaced by war
a mangled mess,
walks through death’s door.
Years from now the grass will grow
hide the brutal fight that flowed-
beckon to a younger soul
the victory a war bestowed.
I ask for every footstep
that walks this well mown field
think kindly on this patch of grass;
a memory it will yield.
Ӝ