https://www.poetrysoup.com/images/bio_images/JohnStetson188373/photos/ps_vicksburg_national_cemetery-2856.jpg
The final resting place arrests the soul that's stirred to ponder Unlikely calm, untimely psalm shall with these spirits wander Now your tomb no more the gloom of morrow's peril pending The will you brought, the peace you sought herein has found it's ending I cannot summon up the scale, the cry, the wail, of this sad tale Where you in desperation drew that final fatal vision Sunshine graces all that my eye falls on in this vale I search for hope that we won't follow on the sad division That led us to the precipice where looking down on others Would lead us to the place where we would choose to fight our brothers Hope has many colors, complications, aspirations, and rebirth But let us hope... lest it should die... along with our self-worth
Poetrysoup is an environment of encouragement and growth so only provide specific positive comments that indicate what you appreciate about the poem. Negative comments will result your account being banned.
Be the first to comment on this poem. Encourage this poet.