The Day After Battle Poem by Brennan DiMarzo

The day of the battle,
Wages in their endless struggle,
From morning to night,
from sun rise to set,
Through the grains of time's recurring embrace.

They fight with vigor and strength,
One side holding white light branding in forever justice,
While the other holds a shimmering glass
They fight and clash on this battlefield forever the same.

The night of the battle,
Draws close with the smoke of war fading,
Into the sky and heavens above,
While mist encompass the remaining, restless bodies,
Of those inevitable participants.

They question what causes lay,
To lead them to this inevitable place,
At this inevitable time,
They question if it will ever change.

The day after battle,
Begins with a warming bask of the pestering sun,
Her peering rays touching across the clearing mist,
To reveal the cries of passing,
and stench of fresh decay.

They lay with groaned agony,
Sun's ray glimmering into their wounds,
Never to agitate or to torment,
They lay as their flesh seeps into the earth.

The day after battle,
Reaches a silent afternoon,
With the pleas finally meeting their end,
As sun's arms wrap 'round the fallen's famished skin,
Pushing them further into the graveled land.

They lay with peaceful bliss,
Finally as darkness covers their eyes,
With a loving relief in it's embrace,
They lay as the soil consumes their life.

But through this death,
Draws a new life,
For as the day after battle meets its end,
A flower blossoms,
Amidst the timeless scape of war.