Her Cry To The Marching Soldiers (AN ORIGINAL POEM)
The footprints
sink deep
into the vile mud,
the hollow wind blows
cold loneliness,
gun burst muffles the cries.
The troops have an order
they march in the filth,
a deserted village
in sight.
She runs outside,
running to greet them.
She falls to the ground
the dirt hits her face.
"Where thou head?"
"The frontline's not there!"
Fragments of shells
lay mixed with the hay.
The house is
ravaged,
the fence is all
wrecked,
her last gasp for help,
a cry to the soldiers.
She asks once again
"Where thou head?"
"Why do you leave us?"
The troops have an order
they march in the filth,
cold wind keeps blowing.
One soldier breaks
up the line,
he runs up to her,
drops on his knees,
tears running down
his masculine cheeks.
"Forgive us, if may you,
forgive us the traitors
we leave our soil
our souls are surrendered,
we leave you behind
but we shall come back."
The troops march on further
they don’t look abaft,
they have an order...
Only footprints are left
deep in the mud,
gun burst gets closer...
Images Credit - 1 ; 2 ; 3 ; 4 ; 5 ; 6 ; 7 ; 8 ;
Great deliverly, thank you for putting in all this work.
Thank you for sharing your poetry !
Thanks smailer!
Thank you SereJ I enjoy your work :)
Memory is very important, but I do not like to visit such places.
I fully understand your point and aftrer reading this poeple will understand why
Thanks for sharing!
And so it continues, this insanity. That is what it is. Complete insanity. By those who profit from it, and manipulate minds to accept it as the reality, and those who believe in it, and support it and allow their children to join up.
Amazing work! Places where battles have occurred are sad and haunting, even on bright sunny days.
Abosultly agree, but i guess in some very strange way it gives inspiration
:-O intense and stirring!!
I like the way you explain the words,feel free to check my original fiction.
Thanks for sharing this material, I like what you posted. Thank you so much
Glad you liked it. Thanks!
Especially liked this stanza,
The house is
ravaged,
the fence is all
wrecked,
her last gasp for help,
a cry to the soldiers.