The Dark WarA Poem by SonOfPlunderSomething that i wrote years ago whilst studying World war one poetry
I
grip my gun, the stock slick with mud
my feet are torn, smeared in blood My breath is rancid, reeking of death could I really be the last one left? I close my eyes, squeeze them tight there must be a way to make this right I take a step and feel the ground shake It’s almost too much to anticipate I make my way around the bend almost too hard to believe these were my friends Mutilated corpses and scattered gore someone above must be keeping score I see the light, I’m almost there I squint my eyes against the flare I take a breath and muster my strength this is a war that no one can win © 2014 SonOfPlunder |
StatsAuthorSonOfPlunderCardiff, Wales, United KingdomAbout29 year old amateur fantasy writer and dark poet from Cardiff, South Wales. Currently working on a novel with the intention of eventually making it into an expanding series. more..Writing
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