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Poem

A quest for solace took me to a well-kept garden 
Where the only trouble is the breeze that blows 
Touching the hearts of the trees 
Then the rustling sounds of the leaves
The dancing inch grasses 
And the unrivaled scenery of silence 

Then i imagined 
The calmness, orderliness and respect 
Each was quite; minding his nap  
In his six-feet long grave  
Bought with blood 

But then; the epitaph on their tombstone
In ingots of gold 
Lowered to the edge of their feet
Tells who they were
A strange expression of lives 

And when I took a long gape within the confines of my sight
I saw the arrangements 
Soldiers; rank and file
Laying in standing order
Order of ranks and heights
Nobly attired 

Then it crumb my wits again 
Gain of such solitary confinement
Of fallen martyrs
Ruined by the gaffe of the state 
Dozens deaths; slate 

On the epitaph; were 
Names, numbers, dates of birth and dates of death
The quote; ‘He gave his life for the Nation’ 
Took my thoughts farther away  

Then comes the reward for the death 
An orchestral band 
In flattering attire
Singing sorrowful songs 
As we wine and dine 
 
It goes on and on 
Till the lowly arrival of night 
Knowing that the death felt animate again 
I hugged and bit farewell to each  
As they walk nobly back to their graves

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