Fleeting Peace

The soldiers hear the roar of rattling guns,
Yet they cannot avoid the raging war.
The war has given Death a throng of sons;
He brings them to the grave and shuts the door.
The soldiers are prepared to carry on,
But they are met with shelling all around.
Then Death begins to stroll from night to dawn
So he may gather trophies from the ground.
Societies decry this bloody scene
And seek to end the wars they all abhor
But while they try to stop the war machine,
Voracious Death returns for even more.
 From dawn to dusk, the sun observes the pain
 Of earnest men who reach for peace in vain.