Battlefield Poem by Beth Caro

We are standing in the battlefield of our broken family,
No one is mourning the dead
Each soldier had gripped their gun angrily
And watched as their kindred bled
Each bullet shot would hit the heart
Killing its love and birthing stone
The soldiers hatred would impart
Until a stone heart became their own

One by one the soldiers fell
Only the strongest remained
The souls of the guilty were claimed by hell
To be forever lost and in darkness contained

As the sun rises and the battle slows
We head to the trenches and wait for command
We look to our captain but already know
The family had surrendered under every demand