the threads connecting us
to our loved ones
need to stay strong
like spider's silk
to survive this battle.

The glen where felled men slept
Where the creek’s deep bed trembled, reeled
Where the green ferns, restless, crept
Where the breezes blew, flew, wheeled
Where the trees, the sweet elms wept
Where the gentle red wrens nested
Where the elks, when freed, then stepped
Where the fleet, serene deer rested
Where the scented bells were kept
Where the jeweled, fresh dew met green
The glen where felled men slept,
Where men were never seen

My mind screamed with each wave,
Each crash.
A verse slams into me.
Witness it's words turn to thought.
An unwavering battle to think
Straight.

on the battle field of courage and pain
the young men defend the old politicians
the cost is blood and treachery