The moon hangs low above the trees
And bathes with silver radiance.
A soldier praying on his knees
for some divine deliverance.
From his prevailing circumstance.
Where he is forced to kill or die
He is prepared to take a chance
to find a place of sanctuary
A haven of tranquillity
Untouched by wars insanity.
A place where everyone is free
To do what conscience tells them to
The moon listens impassively
Although she does not disagree.
Saturday,05 May 2012