The drums of war


The drums, the drums, the drums of war

They do follow me, calling me, tormenting me

Never letting me put down my sword

They beat, they thump those wicked drums

And in this moment I breath a sigh, For 'tis my fate to fight and die

I have my brothers who share my sigh, now we most go and you must bide

The drums were not a distant cry, nor made of wood or of stretched hide

The drums of war were inside of me, the thumb, the bump, that t'was me

The drums, the drums, the drums of war

They beat, they thump those wicked drums

By Clinton B. Dooley
17-April-2017

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This Poems Story

I as a Green Beret I left the Army in 2012 and returned in 2016. This is a poem about the warrior’s heart that does not stop even though he has earned his chance to live a normal life.