Standing in ruins, they wonder who'll know,
That they fought in trenches, in rain and snow.
In nameless fields, their courage persists,
Lost friends and faces who will be missed.
Letters not sent, words buried deep,
Remains of their dreams, the earth would keep.
Each heart, afraid of fading to dust,
Marching to their graves, filled with trust.
Echoes of fear in the silence they tread,
Murmurs of being forgotten quietly shared.
But beyond the end, through night's steady pace,
Each soul will find their memory being embraced.
Rising from fields of unmarked graves,
Eternally honoured for the courage they gave,
Dead in actuality, yet still living in our hearts, we thank them for their bravery and for doing their part.
YOU ARE READING
To Live is to Die
PoetryI find war a fascinating topic-so broad yet so focused, filled with so many emotions and endless stories to explore. Sadness has its own kind of beauty, and that's what I wanted to capture here. To Live is to Die is my way of remembering the lives s...
