Echoes tremble
the petals of life, and
the morning dew glistens,
as their tears of sorrow
leave trails of silver light
in the wake of remembrance
of the travesties of the warmongers.
Reflections of the images
of the dead and the dying,
the rivers of their lives flooding across
the vast plain of memory that is time,
leaving blackened stains
across the innocence of the universe.

© Johanna Fugitt 2017