And They Shall Come to Pass as
Broken Heroes
Courageous heroes, tormented by screaming sounds resounding, in the
persistent storm,
All bound in brotherhood, bravely rallying in defiance, where the
shells, and rockets swarm.
Under the smoky shroud, soldiers entrenched, under thermite fireballs,
cascading from the sky,
United in deaths fatal resolve, where the victorious sights, will be
seen in someone else’s eye.
Marking time, before the final call, when their valiant
souls, will be abruptly snatched away,
Taken from wars brutal scape, where the worlds vibrant colour, has
turned to a world of grey.
One minute, as fighting fit soldiers, repelling the onslaughts, with
guns and mortars ablaze,
In an instant “MEN DOWN!” searing heat, sizzling their flesh, in the
luminous molten haze.
The sudden shock, agony, and excruciating pain, triggering an
intolerable firestorm inside,
Their lurid dreams, their restless thoughts, coming to pass, now
destined for deaths divide.
Strong muscled soldiers, chests chiselled in stone, never one to shy
away from the iron rain,
Suddenly facing the battle of all battles, against life or death,
desperately struggling in pain.
Flesh eating thermite, burning deep, sapping hope, the flow of life,
from their beating heart,
Drifting into a drowsy state, where the point of no return is nigh,
their destiny falling apart.
Beyond life’s sweet taste, of precious love, or the blinding dour, of
deaths bitter revenge,
To join the fallen ranks solemn parade, in times eternal drift, where
infinity knows no end.
Beset by feverish hot and cold flushes, fighting for their lives in
shock, bodies shutting down,
To be left behind, amidst the sad sight of lost soldier’s empty shells,
upon the battle ground.
While some think them romantic fools, the script of fate already
engraved, upon their stones,
The time they never had, rotting their worldly shapes away, scavengers
scattering their bones.
Over eons, the bones ground by sand into cosmic dust, to be dispersed
through the universe,
Leaving only the lost souls drifting, eventually forgotten, and the
thought of war their curse.
Written By: Alan.Clark@WW1POET
(Nov 2022)
.jpeg)
No comments:
Post a Comment