Raucous laughter bombards my head
I surrender, take me to my bed
Can we end this infernal war?
Cease the bloodshed that I deplore.
Blast me with artillery fire
The last stand, the funeral pyre
Tonight we march, sound out the horns
Give them something tragic to mourn.
After time has taken its toll
They'll all pray for your martyred soul
I hope you pass the final test
Praised for your life, not for your death.
YOU ARE READING
The Wind
PoetryA collection of poems, short stories and writings. Well, essentially just poems at the moment. Variety of influences I will always be willing to disclose for specific poems. Some are darker than others (see tags for possible triggers). Please commen...
