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A stillness filled the land.
Stretching out to turbulent seas
Eventually, it stripped the motion
upon the soil and oceans...
A time of nothingness has arrived
Land and water is swallowed by the
Tide. It holds its mark in deepest
Dark, the satin stillness ruthlessly
Embarks.
Is time lost its stroll, does the drum
Forget to roll, it is a stationary beat
That should reject all heat.
A pounding of its sound shakes the air
And ground next time it will not come
Around...
So speaks the Ancient Battlefield, its
Haunts and does not yield...
The stillness that stretches for miles, is
Drifting high and low, with a place with
Unheard of grace.....
Leave this place of cluttered souls and
Wash it's hands unclean, release the
The prisons chains, and drink the waters
Of the rains.
In sullen cries the wounds still open
To sorrow's pain.
If I had not seen this draining shell
I would gladly walk away from this
Path of hell, and keep the sight to
Never tell.
So the battle spirals down and sleeps
But will awaken it will open and again
Will seep...and lost life remains within
It's keep. Wounds of war run deep.
Take me from this place before it comes
To know my face....the cold hard reality of countless
Wars.
a sad part of life, to live, and die, by the
Knife.
©Allseasonsverse 2018
All rights reserved
S.C.
Stretching out to turbulent seas
Eventually, it stripped the motion
upon the soil and oceans...
A time of nothingness has arrived
Land and water is swallowed by the
Tide. It holds its mark in deepest
Dark, the satin stillness ruthlessly
Embarks.
Is time lost its stroll, does the drum
Forget to roll, it is a stationary beat
That should reject all heat.
A pounding of its sound shakes the air
And ground next time it will not come
Around...
So speaks the Ancient Battlefield, its
Haunts and does not yield...
The stillness that stretches for miles, is
Drifting high and low, with a place with
Unheard of grace.....
Leave this place of cluttered souls and
Wash it's hands unclean, release the
The prisons chains, and drink the waters
Of the rains.
In sullen cries the wounds still open
To sorrow's pain.
If I had not seen this draining shell
I would gladly walk away from this
Path of hell, and keep the sight to
Never tell.
So the battle spirals down and sleeps
But will awaken it will open and again
Will seep...and lost life remains within
It's keep. Wounds of war run deep.
Take me from this place before it comes
To know my face....the cold hard reality of countless
Wars.
a sad part of life, to live, and die, by the
Knife.
©Allseasonsverse 2018
All rights reserved
S.C.
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Ancient Battle Fields of Countless Wars
Ancient Battle Fields of Countless Wars