The Fallen Meadow
They were off to war! The merry men
At long last, to bring an end
To their enemy, that hated race
And return home in song and praise
By day they crossed long mountain roads
Their nights were filled with glory and hope
For they were a brave and noble power
And this, now, was their hour
Then they came across a blooming meadow
And their forms cast a dreadful shadow
On the blooms; pure, bright and fine
That in the sun, did glow and shine
They paused, for it was in their way
They could not go, they could not stay
Beyond was their dreams of glory
But before them was a living story
For a long time, they stood and looked
Till, at last, the General spoke
“Onward men! For the greater good!”
And the blossoms were trampled underfoot
They went, they won, they returned in praise
Many toasts in their name were raised
But the meadow they trampled in their power
Never again bloomed a single flower
Copyright © 2019 by May Kwek
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