I hear the sound of dying souls.
In a war between friends and foes.
Screams of pain echo all around.
I tell you it is not a comforting sound.
I see blood flowing like a river.
The sight makes my nervous system shiver.
I feel the pain of all the dying.
All their eyes monsoonly crying.
Everwhere blood and gore.
Then i awake and hear my wife snore.
To myself i say thank goodness i was not there.
For some poor souls this life is not fair.
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Author:
Wallace (
Offline) - Published: April 11th, 2018 01:08
- Category: Unclassified
- Views: 14
- Users favorite of this poem: Aislinn Wilson
Offline)
Comments4
We can all be thankful that we were not there. Very good write, we must stop these wars.
Life is most unfair for the innocent.
So true, ta for comment.
Yes I always feel gratitude for having been born in a peaceful time with no bombs in sight....... but also feel guilty that I am (relatively) safe where others are not...... especially for the children.
this is wonderful
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