Colin F. Jones


~ 1 ~

My words echo through hollow halls,
Distant sounds of my own faint calls,
That seem beyond my control and fade,
From shouts to whispers duly made…
I sob; tears flow freely from my eye,
From where within my soul doth cry;
Oh God!! Oh God why did he die?
Tell me God!! Oh, tell me why!
So few were killed, so many went,
Yet you were one who’s life was spent.
It’s true! It’s true!! He won’t be home!
I’m lost; hollow words; I’m all alone.
Just crying… crying… sobs that fade,
Like dripping dew drops in a glade…

~ 2 ~

Green, so green so damp and weeping,
Trees and vines all soaked in rain,
Muddied trails of water seeping,
Where lies your body wracked with pain…
Gasping, yes I hear you gasping,
Your eyes with shock and horror strained,
You voice is calling, no ‘tis rasping!!
Your lips with crimson blood are stained.
Goodbye, goodbye, the light is fading,
Goodbye, farewell my love goodbye.
Beneath a sheet of leaves cascading
I feel in my heart your final sigh…
A whisper – a resounding sort of hollow whisper:
The last breath of a soldier who was meant to die.