Poezja

Soldiers Thoughts
(World War One)

Memory is our contribution to life
and sleep the eternal dream.
This voice of youth has one last breath
and we give it to you.
 
My comrade’s corpse will be forgotten
like the ash from generals cigar.
Our blood will pour to fill their ambitions,
So sweet is the vintage they consume
 at Christ’s table this night.
 
The claret of soldier boys
will oil the guns this day,
and prayers will be sent
In the glory of our annihilation.
 
The lines on the map grow restless.
The horses all know their fate,
for the rot of progress is in the air.
 
Our preachers gather their crosses,
we fight in the name of God.
But who does God fight for?
 
Is mercy beyond his gaze?
Was this his plan?
To create the widows vale
that descends upon the son of man.
 
Is a soldier to see the face of God?
Through eyes that burn in a yellow mist
 breathed on by fallen angels.
Whose kiss causes him to gurgle
for fear he tells the truth.
Tells the truth,
to the last believer on earth.
 
Futility rules this slaughter,
we are the waste of nature.
Men and boys are but leaves
ordained to fall in the winds of war.
 
There is no sanctuary from the guns
that spew their rain of death.
It digests us all.
 
Sins and good deeds forgotten.
In retribution they take vengeance
 on we, the poor souls below.
There is no dignity to be found here,
Only death in corrupted mud.
 
Life is the enemy
and reason the sword.
We are a disposable commodity,
and this land will feast upon us.
 
Mothers of England
let your children play.
For tomorrow they will come
to make angels on earth.
 
This generation will haunt the sky.
Sculptured in the storm clouds that gather
and you will see your son.
 
For that is where your boy resides.
Free from the sins of man,
free from the fear of war.
And your tears will remember him,
 “Jack “, who was, your little boy.