The World For Which The Willow Weeps.

Lying lifeless on mudded ground

The remnant of forest vast

Never to grow

To grand old age

Or flower as springtime looms.

In the vale that green no longer keeps

Lays the world for which the willow weeps.

Gunshots ring on war-torn fields

As lives are swiftly took

Never to see

Loves left at home

Or watch their children grow.

And in this place where cold death creeps

Lays the world for which the willow weeps.

Harsh winds blow through city streets

As abodeless hide their heads

Never to lay 

In households warmth

Or in comfort rest their bones.

And in this night of broken sleep

Lays the world for which the willow weeps.

Reviews

[jacob erin-cilberto]

i am imagining from this those willows on battlefields and not only bent in sadness but crying actual tears at seeing all the needless bloodshed...and for what...war takes away...it does not give.
j.

[bob26]

Very true, jacob. Recently read the arsenal at Springfield by Longfellow and found the last 3 verses beautiful on that subject. Thank you for your words.