Shots ring out
Cutting through the mist,
clinging to the dew.
The sun barely above the trees.
A fire in the sky.
Rolling hills stained
with life lost,
taken before its time.
The sound of the snare
matches the tempo of the canons,
creating a requiem for the fallen.
Until midday
When the smoke fades,
waiting for the next battle to begin...
No comments:
Post a Comment