Battles Fought

Carry on my soldier,
toward the mighty thunder, 
the antidoron of gunfire 
line the formations 
with nebulated smoke
and imminent fear, 
no time for impertinent protest,
for rigid bravery knots the stomach
of every soldier, for laden worry
taunts every hidden face,
the only comforter lies within a lucid dream
of returning home beyond the befall of a body bag 
and stark cross at Arlington's hills, 
quick and violent the exchanging fray,
bullets soon cut their marks, blood spills
like gutted sheep baaing for their last gasp, 
woe to thy claimant of sorrow that hangs upon the death wreath
and hail thy consternation that dwells upon the living families
who succumb to the casualties helplessly;
Lo ye war-hounds who daunt in cowardice 
your lives will burn eternal with pity and scorn,
for lifeless as a stagnant pool of blood may rest
your empty heads for all eternity;
God, please humbly accept these soldiers,
who are marked by the curse of Cain. 

- John Hardesty