Witnessing The True Color Of Death
26 May, 2004
Author: TriTran
Frozen on silent ground,
I stood still,
Gazing at the crimson ocean of the dead;
Each groaning pulse of my heart,
An echo that fills each empty minute
With tears, blood and sadness,
Vibrates the distant mountains, seas and heaven.
Blurry foliages, cold and withering,
Fill the wounded soil;
Black petals, littered without the hope of dazzling and gleaming,
Await their burials;
Cries of the dead, in monotone,
Hum to every corner of the globe,
Mourning the sink of a beautiful nation
That forever gone....
------- Author's Notes -------
memorial day poem about any war |
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