My Own Mecca

First effort at a war piece.

Shoulders rest upon the foundations
breath stalled, pulse racing, in command's anticipation
a breath, a silent breath escapes my lips
the words ring through the clouds and we charge
I pass the empty shell of my own lost hero
riddled with holes that spell out his fate
no time for tears, no place for pause
I have to follow, keep up, I can't be left behind
suddenly the light catches the side of a fresh grenade
reaching, clutching the nearest men, to join my leap
hanging from the sand by shear will of internal defiance
ground's fire lifts at the grenade's say so
its vast reach evaded by the lucky few
too few it was as I turn to see
the sky littered with death's offspring
floating souls that point the way to my own Mecca
they carry the faces of the ones I once knew.

Reviews

[emmajoy]

Oh dear .. war, yet more war .. written so finely, phrases picked out of the air gently but the theme's so raw and cruel.

This could have been written by a soldier with years of duty behind him .. it's as if you live in another man's shoes. Incredible writing.

[cest la vie]

Yes, you have a Mecca inside.. we all do.. Trick is to keep it clean and tidy..
Beautiful piece Poet Brit...
You are just a deep old poet aren't you now? :-)

[Alicante lullaby]

I was passing by until i got glimpse of the title ,knew i had to read it,,,,its ethereal,,,so beautifully you describe the scene of Haj,,,,i loved the start and then relating it to war time,,,
floating souls that point the way to my own Mecca breath taking,,,and iam wondering how would someone from a distant culture get the idea of another religion's extreme devotion to its focus,,,the north,the kabba,,,lovely,,,

[deeps]

I like this write here. makes one think really. Very well written and expressed. Awesome write here.