The Keening
The Keening
Disconsolate depressions on the valley floor of green
With bodies bent and keening, young girls and their kind
Take to the dead fields down, to fall upon their knees
Scattered, sickly tombstones, laid flat on mud and grass
Hearts broken on the sorrow, nothing more
War leaves desolation in a lingering stench of death
Surroundings void of life but drenched in blood
Despair is in the futures of the mourning maidens
After the fight a second conflict brews, the eerie wailing
Malignant, so many hard tears flood in trembling streams
Down, already in the valley, to join the others
In rattling fear the young girls touch each cheek
Of their men, their loved ones, cold and dead
Grotesquely somber faces sink to morbid depths
As reality sets in, not on their side
A formidable enemy, despair is clearly there
The living reminded forever of the cost of life
Crushed, consumed in hellatious fear that never ends
Their loved ones will never love again
Slaughtered, butchered, wasted on the ground
They sink with deep nausea, ugly as the blackened rocks about
Perverted on the landscape, the dead stay in their place
No more warmth of life to fill their needs
The women weep in competition with the rain in torment
Old ladies place coarse blankets on the raw dead men
Too much pain fills their fragile grieving veins
They sing the keening song to praise their dead
Keening continues on the wind and in the rain
It will never stop, never end, always the same
Disconsolate depressions on the valley floor of green
Wailing with great agony and screams
Entered -12/05/14
Poetry Contest Name - Death Shadow
Sponsored by Justin Bordner
Copyright © Earl Schumacker | Year Posted 2014
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