Lost hope heartless those hoof beats pound.
Raising the dust form these red clay grounds.
Chasing the federals like demon hell hounds.
To the city of Chattanooga.
Minnie balls ripping through young mens chest.
Leaving their bodies locked in unending rest.
While turkey buzzard's abandon their nest.
To feast on the grim reaper's carnage.
I was along for this terrible ride.
With five hundred comrades their by my side
Soon will rise the prayers those mothers cried.
On getting the news of their lost son.
From these battles were born.
Scarred young soldiers limbs missing and torn.
And grand old mansions where head stones adorn.
The remains of yesterdays future.
Still poor men die in a rich mans war.
And poor mothers dread any knock at her door.
Fearing loss of her son, innocent no more.
Of killing while searching for glory.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.I would like to translate this poem