The Truth Of War
The clash of steel, the crash of a gun
Beside me lies some mothers son.
A fledgling yet, just left the nest
And now the blood spurts from his chest.
I watch his breast fall and rise,
I wonder my worth, at his demise.
His body writhes and twists in pain.
Another young life gone in vain.
This field is just a large muddy sea
The shots continue to fall on me.
I rise and blindly look about,
And then I hear another dying shout.
No glory here, no big jubilee –
I can hardly stand, and barely see.
If I could know, what is the future for me
Then maybe, the less afraid I would be.
I see broken bodies, which are many abound,
Spent shells and weapons strewn around.
My eyes have adjusted to the evening gloam*
I am tired and wish to go home.
Amidst my pain and aching sorrow –
I hope to carry on and pray for tomorrow.
* Gloam is not a typo … please google the meaning if you wish to know more.