There is an end

There is an end

Lush grass crushed underfoot

The dew squeezed out

Like toothpaste

Blood dried as black as tar

Too afraid to be cowards

Left in the dirt to rot

Stargazing.

On a clear day,

There is nothing to see

But the rolling green

Blades

Bowing their heads

In synchronised prayer.

Death stalks this way

Even in silence

The air is a supplicant

Across the hillside

A soldier’s lament

Echoes in melancholia

Beauty is in short supply

Hold it close

Even as the heart

Has all but stopped

Faint and ghostly

Hope lies

In the space between

Every precious beat.