‘Tis the fall season,
a layer of ground cover:
leaves here; humans there.
Tag: War poetry
Alive

Fallen soldiers sleep—
the living die every day,
their wars never end.
Perpetua

His duty was done;
into the valley of death,
rides next consignment.
Decay

Shelling left and right,
corroded metallic smoke—
my flowers wither.
—
See more of Hassan’s work on her Instagram profile.

