To War

As blood and death linger near
The sound of gun fire still is heard
The grief we know all too well,
But still we march to keep our word.

Better yet to keep in time to the foot falls of the line,
But still I wonder why such dread its edict often over fed
Though I wonder much of dread in thought
Have we not before seen dead?

Still time told none the secrets it holds,
But as it flies small things reveal
With death another one life is lost
Only one truth remains the way we feel.

by Wiley Wildcard

Other poems of WILDCARD (20)

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