Dark clouds brewing; war or peace,
Will this fighting ever cease?
The roar of cannon fills the air,
A thunder clap can scarce compare.
Powder burns, a gun’s retort,
A battle lost but bravely fought;
Metal shards, a killing shower
Of shrapnel, rain with lashing power.
A silence falls, an eerie calm,
Comrades limp home, arm in arm;
It’s over now, the storm has passed,
This time, the truce, I hope will last.
Soldiers who have given lives,
A sacrifice, that peace survives;
Those left behind while some come home,
The partners who go on alone.
But poppies from the ashes rise,
To nod their heads in brightening skies;
This simple flower, a ruby gem,
Ensures we will remember them.
© Nick Lane 2008
