The Battle of Gettysburg

In the summer of eighteen sixty-three,
When the sun started to rise in the east,
The rolling hills of Gettysburg prepared
For a battle that would not cease.

Union and Confederate armies faced,
A clash of ideologies so vast;
Brother against brother, blood was spilled,
In a war that couldn’t be dismissed.

Cannon fire reverberated like thunder,
As smoke filled the sky and guns did roar,
Terrified horses ran amok,
While men fought on and took the blows.

Horsemen with sabers at their sides,
Galloped bravely into enemy lines,
Chaos ensued as they clashed in melee,
Leaving behind many a broken body in their wake.

Riflemen stood face-to-face,
Exchanging shots with a single goal;
To win the day and bring peace,
For which they were ready to pay the ultimate toll.

Nurses and doctors, too few in number,
Tended to wounds both old and new,
Heroically risking their own lives,
To bring a moment’s relief to suffering soldiers.

Legends were made on that fateful field,
Men rose above the call of duty,
Displaying selflessness and courage,
Ensuring their names would be remembered for eternity.

Amidst the carnage and death,
The true cost of war was laid bare;
Thousands lost in a single battle,
Leaving grieving families everywhere.

Five days of fighting had come to an end,
With Gettysburg etched into history forevermore,
A poignant reminder of the price paid for freedom,
As a nation mourned and sought to heal its war-torn core.