PostPoems Be Artistic. Be Creative. Be Inspired!

Amidst the blue splendor of the dawn,

White clouds hovered as doves

Over the battlefield’s memory

Of the cries of young slain soldiers

Where guns and booming cannon

In staccato cadence once roared

The exploding sounds of war.

I walked there softly in the field

‘Less I wake the dead,

Stir their sacred, sordid secrets,

Uncovering cold horrid memories

They fleeing to haunt the living,

Quixotic dreams of youth destroyed

Under low moans of “Why?”