He travels down the road of old world war,
He remembers the sites and battles galore,
The smell of death and smoke on the rise,
He covers his face and sits down to cry.

Noises of justice and fragments of mystery,
They rise to defeat, they all have a history,
Rain falls on there ground and madness still to follow,
The guns packed and loaded, no shell remains hollow.

The day never ended and the souls never died,
The war never gave and the end never lied
The only thing he remembered was the end of his road,
The world of all wars, a flag, and a simple rose.

thats a good poem i enjoyed reading it...