Screaming on impact, agony wails
Lines stolen from time, ever prevails
Fierce violence lives, blood baths move on
Though scars are now hid, nothing is gone
The weapons have changed, little with time
With pain still as fresh, each new land mine
A true no man’s land, desert with sand
The smart from a fist, sting of a hand
Dark bruises still heal, death won’t come yet
Battles are lost, that you can’t forget
War wages onward, taking its toll
Love leaves in earnest, empties the soul
Each torture stake, heavier with time
Breaks down the spirit, searing the mind
With each occasion, nothing feels real
Scars heal in pattern, leaving their seal
Emptiness far worse, than death could weave
Taints every scene, you can perceive
So no one gets close, no warmth is felt
Insanity binds, tied like a belt
Is anything left, should we hold strong?
Or are we beaten, ending our song?
November 11, 2004
Author’s Note: Thank you for reading my poem. If you enjoyed it, please share it on social media and with friends. Thank you for your support!