Revolution - Poem by Mike Hester
The angels wailed in sympathy
For the possibility.
(Some things went, some things came,
Many stayed the same.)
Crimson was their streams of blood
Etching into barren earth -
Whilst the pulse of cannon fire
Became the song they sang.
Heroes dwell in history
(The obvious spoils of victory)
As the spirits of the vanquished
Await their time again.
Comments about Revolution by Mike Hester
Read this poem in other languages
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
Still I Rise
The Road Not Taken
If You Forget Me
Edgar Allan Poe
Stopping By Woods On A Snowy Evening
I Do Not Love You Except Because I Love You