A Commanders Lamentation
By: Noah D. Cutler ©
High of spirit, movements deft,
The tools of death they learned to heft;
So many gone, and too few left.
War’s a monster that men must feed,
Into the breach to fill the need,
To stand and fight, to sweat and bleed.
The scars of war, a silent token
In places where no words are spoken
Of innocence lost and promises broken.
I’ve paced all night, while others slept.
I’ve asked forgiveness, prayed and wept,
For lives left broken and promises kept.