Slava Bakhmut
D
David Wood
0
Altın Yaprak
The fallen lay
In the silence
Of eternity,
Never again to
Smell
The fragrance
Of a rose.
Others take their
place as fresh
Cannon fodder,
Putting their
Trust in the
Blindness of
Their leaders.
When they need to
Rise up
And realise that
Even if they win
The battle,
They will never
Win the war.
They may never see
the calm of peace,
Or the beauty of
Their children
Grow up, or even
See the next sunrise
While Bakhmut is
Being defended by
The Fortress of
Courage.
Bu şiiri puanla
Henüz puan verilmemiş