The Misery Of War

Red rose petals fall like blood dripping from an open wound,

Vines swirl around, and interlock, trapping everything in a gloom,

Wind rushes pushing back and forth causing one troubled person to lose,

Howling screeches by owls into the night, are like anguished cries of the dead and dying,

Some paths worn and some unused, are like a troop brigade falling to doom,

Rain patters loudly against the ground,

Like gunshots into the air,

Chalk screeches on a board, like a warriors despair,

No on shall survive this deadly war,

A knife can slice into your back, before you even know it’s there,

Lying on the battlefield missing a leg is no way to die,

Or sleeping in a hide out blasted from a grenade in the night,

Bravery means nothing,

Unless freedom has a point,

War is not freedom, but a prisoner of death,

Foolish only fight each other,

Spied upon from a tree, a precious life could end in less than a split second,

War is not a duty,

But a one way road trip to hell,

Fire brimstone bubbles in its dark knell,

War cannot bring peace,

Because only angst is left behind,

In nature, in cities, and the most delicate of all,

A person’s mind