In Every Lost War

A new dawn rises

Golden hues reflecting on seas of crimson

I stare off at the horizon

Begging for a reason

Weariness overwhelms my soul

It seems I’ve lost all sense of control

As I watch the bodies of brothers

Sisters returning from war

I mourn

Fresh winds carry with them the stench of loss

Victory it seems is but a memory past

So we appraise the wreckage

All too familiar and still so new

You see, you never quite get used to having to lose

Here I stand heart torn, battle worn, scorned and adorned with scars

Lines so long they can just reach to mars

Covered in dust, sword of rust

And pockets full of stand

I take stock of all that’s left

Wading through this valley of death

Wondering what’s left after war’s final breath?

After the rumble of battle fades away

Making way for the cries of those who mourn

Who will hear our voice?

Who will hear our song?

If there is no one left to sing along…?

It all leaves me wondering

After all this meandering

Where's the God of victory, in every lost war.