If God should send his angles
would they stop these wars?
would young men lay dying?
missing mother
missing home
when daylight has no comfort
when the night provides no rest
his eyes reflect the eternally engraved images of bullets,bombs, and death
the peace, the love, the tenderness
washed with crystal burning tears
that flowed out of his eyes at first
but now refuse to appear
because
the peace has turned to fire
the love has turned to pain
and the flame has blazed the tenderness
into a frigid, stoic glaze
and like the cold perspiring nightmares
his men fade into gray
and in the silence after service
his prayers turn to pleas
for God to send his angles

-or can't he hear
or won't he mend these these broken men?

for his eyes have dried
he has no tears with which to cry
his eyes now bleed red and sore
as he prays in broken Sunday silence
upon his muddy blood stained knees
in these fields of shattered souls and dying dreams