Sunday, November 13, 2016

Heavy silence

The heavy silence of poppies,
like Autumn leaves,
litters our lives.
We, who are ‘young’,
have tears for our world
embattled by the unknowing
wisdom of ignorance.
The bugle call of remembrance
pierces hushed reverence
while the noisy commotion of reality
injures our dreams.
No treaty was signed today,
no peace broke out,
the shackles of conflict maim and kill,
no children of war sleep safe.
Conflict and argument abide with me,
deaths sting endures the ages,
morning’s sunrise will be red as ever
as we, the undead, mourn.

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