Battle Grounds

stepping through the holy halls

blood splattered on the walls

figures darting around every corner

guns pointed ready to fire like a mortar

the cliff, the ledge, the shattered glass

each a site for a unhealthy death

with random shouts, and fierce battle cries

we rush into guarded rooms ready to die

with flags in hand and sweat on face

Run away, avoid the Mace

and when at last safe at base

place the flag and celebrate

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Sara Bailey's picture

This poem reminds me of all the wars around us!

very good job!

Benny Mills's picture

This is about form. It's about content. Heaven, Hell. God, the Devil. It's about innerelationships. Not just my Xwife but my whole life.