Poetry

I felt his breath leave the battle field
 
as bayonet pierced his heart.
 
The surprise of death lay in his eyes
 
his blood poured warmth upon my hands,
 
anointing my soul with his.
 
 
 
His flow of life will find the earth
 
to merge with victims past
 
and another ghost will follow me,
 
shouting for my demise.
 
 
 
This lowly man who took the shilling
 
as Judas took his thirty,
 
now looks across this no man’s land
 
for this corruption belongs to me.
 
 
 
Beneath this mud
 
lies the dreams of men
 
the commandments of life,
 
now lost within these decaying bones
 
for this war has silenced them.
 
 
 
And up above heaven receives
 
the righteous who take their place,
 
but the blood of my victims
 
are now a moat
 
and I would surely drown.
 
The dreams I have taken
 
will guard the gates
 
while angels turn their back to me.
 
 
 
I am the soldier who orchestrates the kill
 
my sins can wait in heaven.
 
The Holy Ghost can watch his time
 
for I am Lord this day.
 
 
 
It takes a soldier to humble the gods
 
for their power lies with me
 
a solitary man who has done his duty.
 
So God, send your laurels to me.
 
 
 
 I am one of millions
 
Destined to be forgotten
 
But men were born with tears
 
our tears will match
 
any storm that you can send
 
For we are the battle
 
and death is our destiny
 
 
 
We who feed this barrage of blood
 
now fear the morning mist rise?
 
For this grey belongs to dead men’s dreams,
 
their sweet stench a reminder
 
of what’s to come.
 
For tomorrow, I will be one of them.
 
 
 
Bury me deep
 
God must not find me
 
Anonymity will be my peace
 
Only Mother,
 
will remember me.