VIII. The War

A little one raised by two In a civil war do. Pain and Misery is here. Oh, stop the flowing hated tear! In the 19th Century - Mid The war continues - it did! Never ending by the bay Torture is brought on day by day No area is safe at all Being burnt not by the great ball The explosive bombs blow And he no longer glows. A field with three roses In their withered poses. Lose their vision of love. Show down as a dove. That's Nothing new! The sky is no longer blue. On the field, the blood is there Bruises and Cuts bear Till the time of the end. Hope's a good friend. Without it, many lose heart And from this life depart. Days of Bliss remember - Not the days of December. The missiles in the air How much do we care? A young man has a dream Of the days of peace beam Memories are good, But present is under the hot care. The only seen thing Is from the heart bring. A sudden memory of love That was war above. No more is that true And the troops are blue Onward fighting Backward lighting Good crawls away Evil rules after day. Tortured the troops are Hit with a cold iron bar Slow water drops Till Sanity pops. Quartering of old And torture so cold. No heart could stand The ever choking hand. The lost in action Called a wild faction Are soldiers fighting for The elusive hope no one bores Peace, peace - they talk But in reality they balk. Reality seen like a rainbow With a dark cloud in the window. The forgotten fall They no longer call For the loved truly Cause war treats all cruelly. A historian will look But in his book Can never capture true All of the blue. Never flows a tear Cause never known was that fear. Darkness and Darkness more Covering the outside core Of the Troops with bitterness And if possible with hopelessness. Oh, let it go on no more! Let it end - this dreadful war.