Death of the Grass

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Status: Finished  |  Genre: War and Military  |  House: Booksie Classic
The death of the grass, is pretty much all I can write. This poem expresses much of what I think of war and peace and how war will come if we don't settle for peace.
I had some deep emotions burning deep inside and it just happens that now the grass lay smoldering.
I got my inspiration from a Holocaust movie and from history class, as we learned about "Bloody Lane."

Submitted: September 25, 2008

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Submitted: September 25, 2008

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The sun is the first,
The first to arrive.
Rain is the second,
Softly does it cry.
Washing the transparent blood away,
Weeping whilst peace lay unbroken.
 
A flick of wrist commands the boots,
Steady rhythm,
Steady salute,
Marching precedes to kill,
Tiny squeals die under rubber,
Ignorance decrees their lives unworthy,
To live,
Unable to carry on.
 
Motion echoed,
The rhythm repeated,
Fire fast on the steps,
Swift on the heels,
Scalding the bloody lane,
Marking the grave of the dead.
 
Remarks long and gone,
The fog of the darkness,
Explodes into song,
Melodies that of death,
Chords of betrayal,
The ending of the young beginning.
 
The flames spread,
Smooth as they appeared.
 
Drums welcome the reddened dawn,
Whilst the heavens still wept,
Still depressed,
Just over that little song…
~~~
Here it is:
The story of their song,
The showing of their scars,
Defiant to the end.
 
Grave and corpse,
Marked in black.
 
Garnished in red,
Remembered in blue,
Forever in white.
 
Not heroes,
Just boys,
Just men,
As they repeated their last song:
 
"Our memory will carry on,
Hearts of the true,
Purest can be,
Lay untouched,
These will be our scars.
 
We must sing this song,
This song of our demise,
To let them know,
Let them understand…
 
This is for the broken,
The beaten,
And the damned.
 
Our last stand,
Against ourselves,
Shall start,
The extinguish of the flame,
The creation of tears,
And the coming,
Of the next tomorrow..."


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