Raindrops fell on the ashy battlefield,
Like clear miracles every one,
And yet so many return to the sky,
A force to be reckoned with.
Though I tried,
Though I failed,
I thought that maybe,
I could lift the sadness from the air.
As I trenched through the rain,
I heard the call of swallows weeping,
I stumbled on the grassy plains,
Not used to the even land.
I picked up a charred piece of wood,
I let the rain fall around me,
The piece of wood had one engraving,
'Not all that's gold can stay'.
I knew those words from a poet,
His name was Robert Frost,
I returned to town next morning,
Wielding the piece of wood.
I walked the path to the leaders house,
I knocked upon their door,
And when it opened up at last,
I raised the charred wood once more.
YOU ARE READING
Where All Dawn Breaks - A Poetry Book
PoetryThis is a collection of poetry, both mine and not. If it was written by somebody else, credit will be given as possible.
