EBOM TOBE CHURCHILL
My Soldier Boy - Poem by EBOM TOBE CHURCHILL
The sun's troubles are now over.
No more nois' from guns and cry;
Or more gores to make you shiver;
My soldier boy, now rest your eye.
Your finger's free from trigger's greed.
Your feet won't cow'r to fields of mine;
Neith'r shall you fall again and bleed.
My soldier boy, my tears I dine.
You needn't the clouds; my tears is rain;
And my rain won't stop while you sleep.
Sleep, defy the pains in your brain;
My soldier boy, you make me weep.
When I lay you in your cold room;
Inside earth's womb, where mortals fear;
You don't have to dread any gloom.
My soldier boy, no dream is there.
Just so soon, you befriend the night;
Well, sleep, O' sleep, all heroes must.
Forget your guns; there's no more fight;
My soldier boy, live through the dust.
Your war is ov'r, 'tis time to rest.
Let those awake filter the grain;
F'get the ranks on your shoulder's vest.
My soldier boy, you won't die ‘gain.
Org'sms are akin to your stay;
Goodbyes are sadd'r when time is brief.
You should've stay'd for one more day.
My soldier boy, I sing in grief.
The bladder of your spine was fill'd;
Then, and the wars made your life blue;
Now, they're hist'ry, ‘ven thos' you kill'd.
My soldier boy, goodbye to you.
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