When will it end

When will it end?
The earth soaking up innocent blood,
Rats like cats eating at flesh,
Clouds cover the burning sun,
Of hope and life.

Muddy mass-murder,
Making doubled up crosses,
When will it end?
Thy dead, sadness.

Gone but not forgotten,
Silently, never coming back,

Lonely and dead,

When will it end?

Quiet lonely pain,

Which silences thee,

Is it time to end yet?

Last year, my 15 year old daughter Johanna went to experience the World War 1 battlefields.  I recently discovered that she composed this poem at the time. (The picture is hers as well) As it contains surprising depth, I felt moved to guest post it here. 

Meaningful Pursuits

Through a wrought iron screen, can be seen

A random river of souls.

All going here and going there,

I'm reminded of sheep in the fold.

Now slowing down, something found,

Then moving on, no matter.

Looking at stalls, attention now calls,

They're all as mad as a Hatter.

A second here, a moment there,

A bustling carefree pageant
None looking duller, their splashes of color
All bumping along in this current

A father and child, a man with a pole
A group of young ladies out for a stroll
Impinging my senses, like breaking on shoals
As river meets ocean, arrives at it's goal