Evan, The Blue-Eyed Boy

Eyes so blue, like the color of a placid ocean,

Clear and sparkly with mischief playing through.

The apple of her eye, and the reason for her living,

Evan, the blue-eyed boy, her heart, and soul.

 

Bright and sunny was the day, like every other summer,

People in the neighborhood working through their day.

Children playing around, unbothered by the sun, with,

Evan, the blue-eyed boy, her heart, and soul.

 

The sound filling the scene with death and pain,

Screams so loud, sending chills down the spine.

She dropped her laundry and ran out searching, for,

Evan, the blue-eyed boy, her heart, and soul.

 

The green troops had come marching by unannounced,

Littering the village with bullet shells and ruthlessness.

Massacring anyone who came their way, so did,

Evan, the blue-eyed boy, her heart, and soul.

 

She cried no more, tears refusing to flow,

Wandering through the streets, soulless and lifeless.

Every nook and corner reminding her, of,

Evan, the blue-eyed boy, her heart, and soul.

 

She washed his wound and clad his corpse,

With the only new linen, the poor widow owned.

A single bullet wound marking his chest,

Evan, the blue-eyed boy, her heart, and soul.

 

She found no need to bury him in a cemetery,

The entire village had become one. The village,

Where people toiled and children played, with,

Evan, the blue-eyed boy, her heart, and soul.

 

She walked alongside her fellow mourners, walked back

To her now empty and lifeless peasant hut.

Life had left the hut like a whiff of smoke, taking along,

Evan, the blue-eyed boy, her heart, and soul.

 

The war left the village in doom with death,

Cruising through the streets and kissing away lives,

Of peasant mothers, fathers, children, and of,

Evan, the blue-eyed boy, her heart, and soul.