The fields are now settled;
battle smoke cleared away.

Generals patrol the area
in tanks and trucks;
Rags over thier faces to
mask the stench.

The stench is death;
gone is what used to be,

Several rose petals
lay fallen on the table;
his boquet now colorless
and scentless.

The flowers have withered;
the joy has departed.

Sarah stares at them
for a short while;
and then she cannot look
any longer.

They are dead;
as is he.

And now the battle is over,
Now she can pick up the pieces.

Only to wonder what he may have become,
only to wonder if she had been wrong.

But it's all too late now,
for now mother mourns the dead.

Sarah is remorseful;
she feels ashamed.

Had she not said
those things;
Had she listened to
his plea for mercy.

But nonetheless;
he was at fault in her mind.

She sweeps the rose
petals on the floor;
and then feels even
more confused.

Too late for laments;
he is gone.

She weeps inside,
knowing she should have taken him back.

She tries to hide her feelings,
She tries to rationalize.

But it's all too late now,
for now mother mourns the dead.