Beneath your feet lies a secret
Before the town
Before that old and weathered fountain
Long before this factory,
Or that old Catholic Church
Or be it where you stand,
There was a burial ground,
A hidden history haunts this place
Right beneath your house
A tomb of dead soldier,
Lost like autumn leaves
Their cries echos through my mind Like a haunting refrain
product of war they didn't even start
So many infants souls
Lost prematurely

Their ethernal gaze follows you from dusk till dawn, they cry,
Morpheus knows them not
Their names forgotten,
Their memories lost in the sand of time
They can't seem to
reach for slumber's embrace

Their laments surrounds me,
Am I the only one who hears?
They are ghost everywhere
I see them on my every turn
My bedroom is no exception
But I feign ignorance
For the fear of their vengeance,
I remain silent

They are so many unseen hands
Shaping our reality
I feel them
I feel them in The tempest that ranges through Tornado Alley
I hear them in cry of a mother Repeatedly stabbed by the hands of her own child
I see them in footprint those men burying another alive

The whispers of my conscience pose
questions I know not the answers
So I retract into myself, searching for
answers in the mirror of my mind.
My angel has no voice of her own
So she echoes through me, my conscience,
A formidable presence,
she stands tall within me
Confronting the multitude within me
She stands firm
All the shadows that haunts me
From the deceit of January to the
betrayal of December
She stands alone
Faces them alone
I feel her joyousness
Over my appreciation

Good poem .

Thank you

Beautiful words!