In caressing gentleness
She stands
Within the silence of morbidity,
Singing a hymn to the lost;
The dying souls,
To morbid and helpless calls,
In tears of mourning hearts
Enclaved within the blue and grey
Of Death,
Decay.
Black garments of Grief
Among glorious graves;
The roaring echoes of the brave.
Spears, swords and shields
Of Glory that never yields.
From blood planted in battlefields,
Blossoms thrive
Beyond the ashes,
Beyond the epitaphs,
Sorrows,
Ends,
Beyond all their whipping lashes
Breaking all impediments.
