Angel Of The Battlefield Poem by Megan Lacey

Duty drove them, Honor bound them
They called it “the last full measure of devotion”
Old Glory, snapping in the wind,
Regardless of the peril.
Oh, that Glorious Cause!

But cannon fire and musket blast
Whittled the ranks and sent our boys West.
From bloody fields and Bloody Lanes
And finally to that Whirlpool of Death.

There so many broke their strength
And the pipes, they call them to their rest
But tho’ they rest- I cannot rest.

I’m left alone- Alone to mourn
Alas, I cannot follow.
And I must wander- linger here-
Soulbound to them that fell.

Angel of the battlefield,
Searching for the lost ones.
They cannot know, they cannot tell-
That I am lost as well.