Perspectives

In righteous fury, she stands alone her children unaided to war while worldly fellows do protest amidst crimson streams of blood care not, her passionate cries of pain on grit of dust and sand for glory follows this wickedly chore in honor borne through task. In ignorant bliss he walks without fear his sons unguided must fight deaf to dissent, protests hushed fallacious zeal, bravery be told wandering forth with distain and pride broken dreams scattered as dirt comforting whimsy he reclines in thought children gone lost and scared. In paralyzed fear mother stands grieving her children unloved return flag draped coffins parade in solemn respect innocence stolen by force beneath cold azure skies caskets interred sorrowful eyes frozen in time mere words cannot condole this young life no recompense made to suffice. In anger and silence they share pity this man though damaged, lives together they reminisce with pride His sworn duty now complete gone are their fears of death and loss with the living he shall trek the child they cherish so, lays breathing Yet he’ll never walk again