Bringing Out the Dead

Bring out the dead
Caressed by the witch of war
Borne by the body bearers, the scars
Once terrible to behold
Now swathed in finest, silken thread
Bundled, bound and ever cold
The soldier dead

Bring out the dead
A daughter of the devil of disease
Anointed by her grieving family
Veiled in linen wrap from head to toe
"She's in a better place" the priest had said
It's time to place her in the hole
The wasted dead
				
Bring out the dead
A child taken from the cradle
Clothed in flaxen sheets of swaddle
This shiny thing who for a moment sings
The parents wishing they could go instead
Should angels have such tiny wings?
The infant dead

Bring out the dead

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Wagon With Bodies

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