March on, Soldier.

sammosk (71)in #poem • 5 years ago

We cowered behind hard cover.
bags made of equal measures glass and grit.
Raked by a thousand nails, torn up proper son.
The men were scared, begging for release, retribution.

We had held the line for the longest time

The night burned into day once again.
Colourblind and startled, weeping statues flash-frozen.
The chuffing and laughing from tents, hospitallers ending suffering.
I can hear single reports from the rear.
The men don't want to fight again.

This is not looking good lads
Stiff upper lip, over the top.
We got word down from on high.
Angel feathers drifting like down.

Knights, ready yourselves.
The enemy is coming, soon, soon.. so soon.
Always too soon.

Tomorrow never comes on this damn rock

We waited our entire lives, sitting behind those walls.
Forced out meagre existence inside a box of fear.
There never was an enemy, it was all fabrication.
Imaginations running on nightmare fuel.

Sipping up the fumes of a captive audience.

The wine never tasted so sweet
Care for another glass guvnor?

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