In the peak of midnights sunshine, As rabid nightmares haunt sublime With faces, of my foe now dead All pale black, and blood crimson red. To see the haunted spectres fly Of good soldiers, that would die And of brave men that sat and cried, Who with brave face, had many tried. To see their tears on painted face That ran like rain down silken lace Of broken hearts; their life now lost But who will count this deadly cost? Born of fine women, firm and strong Brave Warriors tried to do no wrong Yet politicians often lied, Dads, Sons, and Daughters; Many died © 12/06/2010Leslie de la Haye MrLeslie.
Posted on: Fri, 29 Aug 2014 18:57:43 +0000
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