Lost Child of War
The wind still hums your lullaby,
through hollow streets of gray.
Your name, a ghost on crumbling walls,
erodes a little more each day.
No one recalls the shade you wore,
the eyes that once could gleam.
The world moves on — a careless god —
that tramples every dream.
Yet somewhere in the quiet rain,
a tear betrays the sky.
It falls for you, poor child of pain,
though none recall just why.
The earth has kept your secret well,
beneath its mourning shroud.
Your silence hums beneath the roots,
your sorrow speaks aloud.
And when the night grows still enough,
the stars begin to weep —
for they, too, lost a fragile light
the world refused to keep.
So, rest, forgotten one, in peace,
your grief at last undone.
The world may never speak your name —
but the darkness whispers one.
Written By: Alan.Clark@WW1Poet (Oct 2025)
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