War Never Changes Poem by Scarlett Treat

War never Changes.
It forever tears
through the night sky,
painting its blooming flowers
of purple, red and orange
against the clouds,
bringing with it
a rain of death
that finally takes
the young men home.

Home to the cities and hills
of their native land,
where only the tears
of their loved ones
can wash them clean.

The whistle of incoming bombs
is the only birdsong heard,
and color seems to have left
the earth leached and gray.

Even the sun has lost its gold,
turning instead sickly pale,
losing even its heat
that warms old men's bones.

No plants grow
in this bombed out crater of land,
no flowers bloom
with their saving grace of beauty.

Despair is
the only thing living here,
and Death has finally taken
the young men home.

Scarlett Treat
Copyrighted
June 22,2010