deepundergroundpoetry.com

After The Battle

After the battle all is quiet, all is still

Save for the caw and flap of cleansing crows,

Men turned to carrion lying stark, tumbled upon earth

Scorched by war

Broken guns point cloudwards like the fingers of the damned

Accusing the sky, asking why?



The smell of cordite pungent hangs still, shroud-like

Smokey tendrils attempt in vain

To veil the sight of this slaughter site from heaven itself

Rain starts to fall, nature weeps over the folly filled field

Her mournful breeze sighs

I gave you a beautiful fecund world to share

Is it not enough?


Written by blocat
Published
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