Tears, Blood, War

**Author's note: this poem is in honor of the soldiers that died overseas. Enjoy! :D** Tears; they spill over eyes they cloud the vision of the cryptic and wise, voices cry out through the dense air, it's easy to tell that death is there, spring has arrived and the dahlia's in the field begin to bloom, the sunset lines the bloomed trees in a line of gold and red, darkening the lifeless frames of the soldiers that have been shot dead, like tears, blood was spilled innocent men and women; killed, sons and husbands and cousins whose lives were stolen from them, whose souls swim through the air filled with blood-lust, they died with honor; that's great! but war, it means nothing, but what it conceals; which is blacker and darker than it's own bitterness and hate. **2nd authors note: i have a cousin that died in Iraq and on the news i used to hear about all these people (u.s.a. and Europe and the u.k.) who were killed and this poem was born, i haven't written down till now. **