This is about the Civil War, I think. But you never know, not even with your own writing.
So he's about to leave her

and he's about to fight in their war.

And he is turning to walk away

And she looks into his eyes.

And she sees their flag,

she sees their men in uniforms,

she hears their trumpets blow,

confident and shining like the gates of heaven,

and she hears their drums beating like hail on a tin roof,

and she hears their women cheering for them,

for their Cause,

for their country,

for their North and for their South,

and she knows they call this glory.

And then she sees blood,

And she hears their guns go off

like a door shut with a slam,

And she sees them die

And she hears them ask for water in voices only God can recognize,

And she sees them buried still warm,

And she sees the numb eyes of children,

young boys barely old enough to leave their mothers,

And she sees hot lead and cold, uncaring steel.

She sees them in agony in dirty hospital beds,

and she sees them sweating hot with hungry fever,

and she hears them crying out How long...

and she sees him leave her

and she sees he does not want to go

and she will die twice for each of his wounds

and this is not glory.

Thanks for reading. Hope you liked it.