Call From the Grave

They haunt me in my waking dreams

War-torn bodies and cloudy eyes

Only held together at the seams

Each mouth wide with final unheard cries

Widowed hands hide innocent eyes

To shroud the pale-splattered shells

Where souls no longer lie

The toll counted silently by opulent bells

A dark sight on a shining day

It isn’t over yet

As mother cries and prays

A younger group is sent