Lookng Down From Above

I look down from the sky; I hear the guns of battle cry; but all I see is smoke, the smell too horrid not to choke. The men all scatter in this beautiful war as the ground blows up and is there no more. They are covered in dirt and blood and tears. They tremble as the experience their deepest fears. Some have gone crazy from seeing so much death, and the ones lying on the ground make up for the rest. They look so peaceful as if in a deep slumber, but their dreams are not the places they will plunder. This is not a time of glory for every man stands alone. The ground looks to gross and gory as they all drop dead to the bone. Now as I look down I hope they remember the day they chose to all surrender. A day in which the hardship is over, and this field of death all covered in clover.