Sorrows Of The Moors Poem by Greg Gaul

Earth holds close all memory for us
Wade in the heathlands mourning moor
Sniff the stench of ten thousand bodies
In the sorrows sense the weight of the mire
Lost for fools wants forever in the dire
No more glory days left to shine
Only reekish moments amongst spent souls

Step out of the mist's murky memory
To higher ground as the anguished heat fumes
The amber horizon breaks first light
Suffering soaks the heat of human ire
That you'll never cleanse from self
When you face the righteous dawn
Hoping to renew the courage to act thereon