Winter breeze
Rolling by,
Rounded hills
Reaching high.
Endless clouds
Fill the sky
And my only thought
Is, 'Today I die.'
Artillery fire
Cracks the air,
While dirt and shrapnel
Fly everywhere.
The screams and cries
Of our men are heard
By those who live
And still fight for the bird.
But the winter breeze
Keeps rolling by,
The souls of my men
Flying ever high,
The endless clouds
Of smoke fill the sky
And with one last glance
At my men, I die.

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Emanations Of The Heart
PoetryΞ if actions speak louder than words why is the pen mightier than the sword Ξ