After great heroes die others must just get on with life.
Strange how there are tales of heroic deaths but few of heroic acts of getting on with life!
The widow wept a while
His widow there, ah, how she wept;
Then got on with her life.
Her raging man was dead and gone.
But so too was the strife.
Her folk had gone from ebb to flow
As victories came in heaps,
But where’s the glory, grand on show,
Where each new orphan weeps?
Of soldiers who went off to fight
Too many were now dead.
And where’s the glory in the plight
Where widows’ tears are shed?
Great leaders may well win their wars
And mock their foes that fled.
But sad and dismal are the chores
Of those who tend the dead.
For those young men now dead and cold,
Young men who had been brave,
Are each wrapped in their shrouds soft fold
And gone unto the grave.
The dead see not a love child grow
Nor greet each warming sun,
So, where’s the glory, let us know,
When leaders say “We won!”
Yes, widows then, ah, how they wept,
Then got on with each chore.
Their Soldier-men were dead and gone
All gone forever more!
© Trevor Morgan, 12/4/2018
From: “The Children of Gewis”
The Rising Tide 