MY DAYS IN WAR
When days were puerile
Mamma's milk going stale
Aura extant like a tryo
Days never seem grizzled
And warmth sprouting in the blue yonder
As a plank spanker
With my ukulele
My feet plays on the lawn
Reflecting on stale memories in war
Blue lined with feet wears
Sprinkling projectiles off our riffles
In battle of defeat and win
We soughed for win
Eight hours on field for six years in 365 days
Sayonara, dear great warriors
Tears sailing around the unvarying colour
Of our clear sky
Could sense the groans of little soldiers
Holding back their tears
When will the gods take you back???
Your bells are jingled,
Unfriendly strives are done,
Rowdy times are gone
You're gone warriors and not lost.
The fighters
The soldiers
The casualties
The pain
The hunger
The fears
The courage
The bravery
They all gone
Images reference[pixabay]
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This is very nice
Thanks for passing by @dizina
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