Two Brothers Met in Battle (poetry)

by Amy L. Potter, ãJune 13, 2005

Two brothers met in battle, near the weary end of day.

One was dressed in tattered blue, and one in rags of grey.

Brother, I will pray for you, now don’t you fret for me.

Mama just don’t understand, in war there’s no mercy.

On that narrow road to home, what I’d give to see her face,

See her standing at the gate, and feel Mama’s warm embrace.

Smoke from the artillery, turned blue skies above to gray

One brother fell in battle, and the other knelt to pray.

The youngest said, “I reckon there’s no way you could have known.

Dear brother, I just got news that God called our mama home.”

On that narrow road to home, what I’d give to see her face,

See her standing at the gate, and feel Mama’s warm embrace.

“I fear this is my last breath, but my Lord shall lead me home.

I know I’ll soon see Mama, and I never more shall roam.”

When brother fights his brother, only God can give them peace.

We pray to the Lord above, for this awful war to cease.

On that narrow road to home, what they’ve given to see His face,

See Him standing by the gate, feel their Savior’s warm embrace.

Thanks for reading.

Amy Potter