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. **
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