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 Harry Sweeden. My life in verse.

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The Battlefield is silent


The battlefield is silent
there are no more groans of pain and anguish
no more prayers to God the almighty… to hear
young and old now lay silent and still
huddled together as though sheltering from the cold
wrapped tight in their blood soaked uniforms.
No one cares anymore which side they were on
for whom they would lay down their lives
no one but those of us that are left
from those that are now all dead.
The battlefield is silent
but they do not come home from battle
they lay where they fell, silent and still
with only a wooden maker that tells of their name
their courage
their life
and the place that is now silent of battle.







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