I fought my WWIII <br />But then I had to sign the Armistice. <br />I asked myself, how come <br />I won and yet feel hollow, <br />An empty cavern, echoing still <br />With battle cries and agonizing sighs <br />Of dying voices, echoes remaining <br />In my ears. The sailors on the ship <br />Pantagruel sailed in frozen seas <br />Moored in the floes and heard the fleeting echoes <br />All about them: ghosts they cried, <br />But just their own warm breath was melting <br />Ice that had frozen voices years ago; <br />Trapped, now released, the long dead weeping mariners <br />Found their voice again, <br />Posthumous haunting souls. <br />Day by day the phantoms fly away, <br />Night by night my nightmares become dreams, <br />Week by week my winter turns to sun, <br />Month by month the moon becomes a moon again. <br />The Armistice costs dear but all the gold <br />Brought home by mariners from distant lands <br />Cannot replace the peace of home and hearth <br />And treasured words in warmth and wedding bands.<br /><br />Linda Hepner<br /><br />http://www.poemhunter.com/poem/world-war-three/
