The Mourning Doves

Dedicated to my grandpa. As I look to the sky My eyes lay upon the glistening moon Hearing the distant cry For the battle will here soon. The soft, sweet breeze Flowing toward the West Does not settle or ease The pain filling my chest. My life has been taken over by fear And my memories are now only distant dreams For tonight I will shed my last tear Overcome by Satan’s evil screams Will I escape this living Hell Or will I perish for my country For if tonight is my last farewell I hope I do not leave bluntly. I wish this could all change As I watch the trees sway back and forth Though all we pay attention to the rifle range And how stealthily we push North. What we need is not only love Not only trust Not the wake up calls of the mourning doves Or the evening gust. What we need is something simple Something easy to grant Something beyond any starts twinkle But smaller than any plant. For this divine gift Is not an enemy cease But the pain lift Of the great and mighty peace.