One More Dead Soldier

The zing of bullets
Assault my ears
Like the clanging
Of pots and pans.

Blood pours from
Open wounds as water
Pours from streams.
All around us the
Stench of death pervades.

One more dead soldier
Lies still.
One final portrait and
Pose.

 

I like this poem; anti war with vivid imagery

 

Thanks. I basically got the idea during a conversation. That happens a lot lately.