A Soldiering Bard Poem by Stephen Omolori

I showed you all the scars in my grieving heart,
Showing you the cuts when the memories flash.
Everyday they break and then rip me apart,
Especially when the Sun's coal turns to ash.
Broken when Death's long claws snatched a dear one,
Nothing under the sky made sense to me.
If I were a soldier holding a loaded gun,
I'd have pulled the trigger, setting my soul free.
Like a guitar without any of its strings,
Loss makes a heart lose its music and sound.
Since we hate to hear of broken wedding rings,
Cheer me as I take grieving to the battleground.
Though my weapons are nothing but inks, quills,
You should be by my side as its blood spills.