Born of voices from the past. 🏆 First Place - Monthly Poetry Contest (Form: End Rhyme)
A chiseled stone, a worn, gray plot,
disrupts the weeds and marks the spot
where a forgotten soldier rests.
With his blood, this ground was blessed.
Though silent, I could almost hear
the sound of taps faintly but clear.
I wiped aside the dirt and grime
to read his words passed down through time:
“It is with faith I made my stand
for each man’s freedom in this land.
I ask forgiveness on my soul.
I died to keep the Union whole.”
I felt the words reach out to me.
His sacrifice - my legacy -
gave me the freedoms I hold dear
and suddenly it became clear.
The faith he had, I thought was gone,
but his last words said “Carry On!
We’re branches from a single tree;
our strength lies in our unity.”
We each share a common goal:
from the many came a whole,
a nation where it’s understood
the meaning of “a common good.”
To that end, we take a vow
that echoes, in the here and now,
born of voices from the past
to carry on until our last.
An entry for the June round of "Monthly Poetry Contest"
Prompt: Grey Plot.
Form: End Rhyme AABB
Word Count: 186
Line Count: 28