War is over! Loud the victors’ cry, their long assault is ended,
Trumpets blast and bugles blow, as weary heroes stagger homeward,
Barren fields they leave behind, the maimed and sick in
hopeless terror,Red the earth of death and sorrow,
cold the tomb for life’s enclosure,
Ruined towns and gutted homes, with solemn tales of desperate bravery,
Giant armies, skilful weapons, battles won in gruesome fury,
Shamed the vanquished midst their people; loss of courage, low their measure,
Cutting short a human life, who gave the other man that honour!
12
Oct 2011
(Trochee - a stressed syllable followed by an unstressed one.
This poem is a trochaic
octameter : 8 trochees per line).
(Trochee - a stressed syllable followed by an unstressed one.
This poem is a trochaic
octameter : 8 trochees per line).








































