The Fallen Leaves

August 4, 2011
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The dusk breaks on a hopeless place,
Dried sweat and grime upon my face,
Amongst commotion, silence looms,
Beneath our feet a thousand tombs.

The carcasses lie all around,
They litter every inch of ground,
Bones protruding, rotting flesh,
Their memories of life are fresh.

Trees of friendship, roots so strong,
A family where we all belong,
Each leaf is sacred, each beating heart,
When leaves die off we fall apart.

We’re bonded by our common goals,
We share our thoughts, our hearts and souls,
In solitude we dream of days,
When our family seem less far away.

I dream of my son who I’ve not seen in weeks,
My daughter’s cute dimples, her sweet, rosy cheeks,
Holding my wife throughout the cold night,
Imagining days where I don’t need to fight.

The darkness comes quickly, the battle goes on,
I just feel so lost now my friends have all gone,
The tree is depleted, the branches are bare,
An imprint of souls whose leaves were once there.

The fallen leaves have empty faces,
Empty names in empty places,
A number in a common motion,
A single drop within an ocean.

The gunshot noises come to end,
A broken, dying, retching friend,
A ragged gasp, a final moan,
Amongst the dead, I stand alone.

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