Whispers of a Distant War

Two paths diverged beneath the willow’s shade,

Where once we vowed our hearts would never part,

Your whisper in the wind, a serenade,

A memory that time cannot outsmart.

You left with morning’s light, a soldier brave,

To battle fields where shadows stain the ground,

While I remained, by willow’s roots, a slave,

To thoughts of you, where peace could not be found.

The letters came, a lifeline from afar,

With tales of honor, courage in the fray,

Yet each one bared the scars of distant war,

A prelude to the silence of the day.

Then came the dawn when all my world went still,

No word from you, just echoes of despair,

The willow wept, its leaves like tears did spill,

As I, beneath its boughs, whispered a prayer.

Seasons turned, the willow’s branches spread,

Its roots entwined with secrets of our youth,

And though the war had claimed you, left you dead,

Our love remained, an unextinguished truth.

For in the night, when stars adorn the sky,

I hear your voice, a murmur in the breeze,

A comfort to my soul, a soft reply,

A promise that our love transcends all seas.

Two paths once met beneath that willow’s grace,

And though war’s cruel hand has drawn us apart,

I find you in the quiet of this place,

Forever nestled deep within my heart.

In Frost's own style, I've penned our tale,

A love that neither time nor war could pale,

In every whisper of the wind, you call,

An eternal bond that conquers all.