War Poetry

Black and White Image

His still grey eyes reflect the desert sky
As spring bright sunshine stirs the morning breeze.
He sets a hint of smile on passers by
With nonchalance of only stripling's ease.
So young, so fair, so tranquilly he lies
Relaxed, and gazing from the passing storms
Towards the east, where dawn and spirits rise.
Long moments here, no care his face deforms.
No tool of work or war clutched to his chest,
He rests, content for now with night's release.
To him the earth is given, all its best,
and at long last, long sought, the thoughts of peace.
So quietly he seems to greet the day,
His face serene, his skull half blown away.

by 'Glendronach'