Forgotten Ground

Of fields now where the grass grows green
And the ploughman turns what once was dead,
Rows of poppies mourn their blood red tears
For the nameless souls that lie unseen.

And the ploughman turns what once was dead,
The seeds of dreams that the battle stole
For the nameless souls that lie unseen
Make old bones in this forgotten bed

The seeds of dreams that the battle stole,
A generation that once had been
Make old bones in this forgotten bed,
Lie forever in death’s muster roll.

A generation that once had been,
Rows of poppies mourn their blood red tears
Lie forever in death’s muster roll,
Of fields now where the grass grows green.

Daily Word Prompt – Faceless

 

Copyright ©RMC March 2018

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