Dark Gold, a poem by Brad Osborne at Spillwords.com
Paolo Chiabrando

Dark Gold

written by: Brad Osborne


In the late of night
When ne’er good done
Comes pick and shovel
For what fresh earth won

Six mouths to feed
Bread, they have not
Survival bleeds
From corpses that rot

Under stones cold
Lay tragic war dead
Teeth filled with gold
Bodies with lead

Just six feet to hell
Toil for smiles left
Blind to the smell
Sweet scent of death

The opened eye stare
And skin pulled taut
May other lives spare
What war has wrought

And found at rest
Where an officer bled
That wealth gives best
And family well fed

Huddled indoors
As others, life grieve
It’s death that rewards
These unholy thieves

They feast on bones
Hooded in black
Hungry sins to atone
For morals they lack

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This publication is part 80 of 103 in the series 13 Days of Halloween