Nothing can be written of beauty
for serenity is silent.

Only cannon and drum
can pepper the page.

These hallowed places cleansed by blood,
their gift is peace.

Across history riders rode
Angel and Demon,

Tyrants sent emissary’s,
altars smashed and crosses burned

From darkest night
came the brighter day.

Through stoney ruins Sunlight floods
the blackest deeds are drowned,

tis only in wake of war
that peace in truth is found.

© Wolfgar 2019