What Price, Glory?

Sing, do sing, fingers dance
over the strings of the bloody guitar.
We soldiers sing and dance
to a macabre tune
as our governments send us to war.

As thousands of us fall in death
and battlefields become gory,
Sing and dance to honor us,
but ask yourself,
What price, Glory?

Tuesday, August 4, 2015
Topic(s) of this poem: darkness
READ THIS POEM IN OTHER LANGUAGES
COMMENTS OF THE POEM