The Wounds of War
Dear Mother, should my footsteps never tread
The pathway which would lead to your embrace,
Know this, though many words were left unsaid,
Your love has pierced the darkness of this place.
I cannot lie and least of all to you,
My mind is frail, and body's wracked with pain.
I tremble as destruction sounds anew
And blinding terror strikes this bleak terrain.
Incessant haunting screams assault the mind,
And sights I've witnessed which I'll ne'er forget.
Scarred men lie bleeding, rendered lame and blind
Their troubled souls with thoughts of death beset.
And how my weary spirit yearns to roam
Through country meadows leading me back home.
07/01/19
'War sonnet poetry contest' : Sponsored by: Mark Massey
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