Death's Song of War
A song is sung and bronze bell rung
An ode to youth’s flower taken, wrong
In forest of granite, the pillars of stone
The Easter Island faces groan
A young wife gazes to yawning future
For broken heart there is no suture
Bonny Lad so bright in heart, left his
Home a war to start
But now bouquet of splendid love,
Lies scattered on the wind, like dove
And if you see his lass with pram,
Remember how this poem ran.
Copyright © Peter Lewis Holmes | Year Posted 2016
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