A Mother's Lament on the Battlefield

On the canvas of the battlefield, where sorrow and valor entwine,
Two sons lay silent, their destinies now defined.
Flags of nations draped in grief, a tale of loss unfolds,
As mothers weep for fallen sons, stories left untold.

In distant lands, a mother waits, her heart wrapped in despair,
For the son who'll never return, a burden too heavy to bear.
He fought for honor, for a cause so distant and unknown,
Yet, in her arms, his presence lingers, a love forever sown.

Another mother, in a foreign home, receives the news with sorrow,
Her son, too, lost in the tide of war that knows no tomorrow.
A soldier, once an enemy, now rests in a mother's care,
United by grief, a shared pain, a bond beyond compare.

The flags may flutter in the wind, symbols of nations' pride,
But in the quiet corners of their hearts, mothers set aside
The differences that led to war, the reasons, now unclear,
For a mother's love transcends, erasing lines drawn by fear.

The fallen sons, once foes, lie side by side in eternal sleep,
Their dreams, aspirations, in the silence of death, run deep.
Mothers gaze upon lifeless forms, draped in a shroud of peace,
A poignant reminder that war's harvest is never truly released.

One mother's hands cradle a son not born of her womb,
Yet in her arms, he finds solace, dispelling the war's dark gloom.
She whispers words of comfort, a language known to the heart,
For love, compassion, and loss are universal from the start.

In homes divided by borders, grief binds them in its thread,
As two mothers mourn, their tears unspoken, their prayers unsaid.
For on this field, where once the drums of war did sound,
Now echoes the silent plea for peace, the common ground.

In the shared lament of mothers, a call for humanity rings,
A plea for understanding, as the dove of peace takes wings.
May this sorrowful tableau etch a lesson on our soul,
That the true cost of war is measured by the mothers' toll.