Sad Morning

Not so merry a morn
On this patch of earth labeled "war-torn"
Not a sound in the air save for a lonely horn
A call for the dead that compels me to mourn.

Mounds of bodies lay broken and battered
A single flag waves torn and tattered
All this death for what they thought really mattered
Not one survivor, all bloodied and battered.

The hopes and dreams of those at home are dead
The children of warriors will go unfed
The pride of power went straight to their head
Now all of the village men are dead.