My silent warriors are no more,
Their grandeur given to some strange hiding place
Where only the dust of battles fought in years past
Appears on their unstained uniforms.
Their cannon no longer roar …
Poetry
Respectfully
Impaled on cold stones,
Men stand; head erect, shoulders back,
Images captured in silence for eternity.
Their bronzed faces, green with age,
Gaze blindly at the steel cities
They unknowingly stumbled upon.
With groping, grasping hands
They clasp old stained…