Hello Poetry
Submit your work and get some sparkles! Create free account
Life is capable of grand versatility; there’s so many different ways to end it. Yet, so few ways to save or preserve it. I stumbled over weapons left on the field; the years have punished them for their deeds, for the lives they stole. Men who made these decisions: Gods, Emperors, Presidents, Generals; somehow few of them paid for it, but soldiers and civilians did. They paid for the bickering with their lives. How can men dictate who others **** Where did this bloodshed begin? Where will it end? Not on this battlefield, nor will it end on the one miles from here. Not even on the fields that’ve stood still for a millennia. When will it end?
0
May 22, 2018
May 22, 2018 at 8:53 AM UTC
Walking Through Former Battlefields
Life is capable of grand versatility; there’s so many different ways to end it. Yet, so few ways to save or preserve it. I stumbled over weapons left on the field; the years have punished them for their deeds, for the lives they stole. Men who made these decisions: Gods, Emperors, Presidents, Generals; somehow few of them paid for it, but soldiers and civilians did. They paid for the bickering with their lives. How can men dictate who others **** Where did this bloodshed begin? Where will it end? Not on this battlefield, nor will it end on the one miles from here. Not even on the fields that’ve stood still for a millennia. When will it end?
Written by
May 22, 2018
May 22, 2018 at 8:53 AM UTC
Request permission to use this poem