Battlefield

After the glory of a battle won
The soldier stands with blood staining his hands
His weary eyes gazing over the lands
And the dead lay beneath the blazing sun
He lowers his head, his soul gripped with pain
For the lives lost in the victory’s quest
As he prays the fallen will now find rest
In their memory may new peace remain
A defiant act to the thugs of war
That call for death for the innocent men
Who serve with honour in the field and glen
While always knocking the Reaper’s door
For the soldier, it is not he that wins
He pays the price of another man’s sins

© JG Farmer 2016
Form: Bowlesian Sonnet

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