Field of the dead
The stench is so recognisable
Death harvest
Swords clench together
War this is, there can be no doubt,
The twang and clank of armour,
Two rival nations
Men fallen, men still standing,
A sea of ambition and hatred,
Who will prevail?
Darkness drinks the sky,
Fires litter a lifeless plain,
Mounds of corpses,
Wide eyes stare,
Warm but lifeless,
Screams of pain dulled by life’s end,
A silent plain
A clearing mist,
Reveals men of stature,
Back to the ground from which they came,
A note dances in the faint wind
A champion’s last words,
“Man is full of greed, too late have I realised,
Man is full of hatred,
It harbours a resistance to change”
“Who of these fallen men will receive atonement? ”
I will accept death as my punishment”
Rain falls,
Blood,
Those hanging on,
Crying out,
Laying down,
Death’s sweet slumber awaits them all,
The war is done,
…For today.
Tomorrow is a new day.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
A very true poem, with amazing symbolism. well done.