War Poem by mark anthony st. rose
War
Names are seared in swords
with warm blood
and tears falls like rain
or like the red sea
of pain that fills screaming hearts,
in vain asking for a fresh start
again the sword is drawn
and another war dawn
and prayers are heard like last wishes,
and tomorrow vanishes,
in to a sad dark abyss,
and mourners are left without a kiss.
All rights reserved.
Tuesday, March 13, 2012
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