Sleeping soldiers, lost in dreams
Buried deep, the caustic tongue
Whispers of a war beneath
Behind the poppy coloured lips
She masks an agonising pain
The copper taste and sanguine froth
Spill forth in conflict once again
Foaming as a rabid dog
The kindest cure, to take her life
Sleep with soldiers in their tombs
And flick the trigger switch to night
Dark tendrils stroke her war-torn head
Her tongue is silent in its grave
He stole her mind, her heart escaped
In the end that was all she gave.
2012 © LH
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