Uncertain
by Ingar Kleiss
In the forest where I wait uncertain,
Cold in winter's icy fingers,
Watching over those who've fallen,
Waiting for the mourning singers.
Pall bears gather near these heroes,
Bear them high upon shoulders strong,
Through the primal mythic forest,
Uncertain still I join the throng.
Passing ages how death is changeless,
Weepers always torn and pale,
Hoping redemption comes in secret,
Though their faith would seem to fail.
I have watched it seems eternal,
Long before these youth have died,
Countless as the generations,
Multitudes have also cried.
How could one be certain watching,
Here among these ancient trees,
Heaped high as those who waited there,
The scent of death upon the breeze.
Still one must watch as others carry,
Blood drenched sons lately born,
Fragile youth to fight our battles,
From loving arms so soon are torn.
To home they go poorly escorted,
Still I uncertain standing near,
Who shall stop the crimson river,
Not I as I brush back a tear.
Poetry Ad-Free Upgrades
Vote for this poem
Please Comment On This Poem
|
|
|
|
|
|
| decentofwar | 
|
|
|
