A poem about WWII
Final Homecoming
By: Adam M. Snow
I'm on the front line with a friend of mine,
The day's a brume, deluge of shards not rain.
The sunshine's, darker than black,
The sun itself, darker than blood.
I'm on the killing fields, never looking back.
I hear rockets blasting, guns blazing,
On a shiver land, once worth saving.
I bluster while bolted, with blood on my hands.
I killed again and again and again.
Can God forgive me of this ongoing sin?
I see a weeping angel, shedding tears,
For the dead and the nameless ones.
I pray salvation, for all dead and gone,
I persist to fight through the red of dawn.
I see a young foe, who's scared as I,
As I shot him down and watched him die.
I stand here frozen, shocked with fear,
Not knowing myself that my end was near.
The dead and ominous silence prevailed,
I did my best yet still I failed.
I'm struck with pain of a bleeding heart,
Fallen to my knees, cold and numb,
Full of fears of death to come,
I've fallen down on this blood taint field.
I watch the slaughter as my death draws near,
My vision's dim, I'm shaking with fear.
"Take me home" my last request.
Place a flag upon my casket
I lay here, my final rest.
God knows, I did my best.