(a Welsh clogyrnach, Type 1)


It seemed like the end of the world,
As flags of each nation unfurled;
The boots hit the ground,
With a heavy sound;
Hearts did pound,
Blood curdled.

It’s hard to imagine such fate,
In the midst of bloodshed you wait;
With their heavy loads,
In the soldiers strode;
The abode,
They ablate.

Will we ever find such a peace,
That grants on our lives a new lease?
The body count soars,
Our souls do implore;
Where’s the door?
No, new grief.

(c) 2017 Miriam Ruff All Rights Reserved