Mozzthe1

The Fallen Soldier

When I was laid 
In field of clay

No flowers above
My head did lay.

Nor marble headstone
Paced with care

With words of recognition 
Chiselled there.

Sweet Words of sorrow
Were spoken with pain

Tears of regret
Did not silken handkerchief
Stain.

No volley of riffles
To the sky

No last post
Lullaby.