deciding hour.

i based this one off the battle on omaha beach lightly. i could of done more on it but i would rather further my knowledge on the history a bit more before i do.

Thoughts, frantically organising themselves.

The muffled sounds outside resemble screams.

As I hold my tool, my tool of destruction.

Im here to end a life, to preserve my own.

 

The grown men prey, clutching their rosaries.

The grey dull clouds, mourn the ineveitable.

Its now we leave this boat its now we stare into the abyss.

“BROTHERS TO THE END” I scream with primal fury.

 

Within this moment of anger, of passion, of valour.

I shed emotionless tears, overwhelmed by fear.

Within seconds the sands on that beach will bury me forever.

No funeral, no compassion. A teen in this forsaken age,

 

The flood gates have opened, the liberated souls pour out.

a quire of bullets become the soundtrack to our demise.

But if this is my last day I only wish for 1 simple thing.

That the difference we make, is the difference that wins. 

Author's Note

ok here is a question. should i make these type of poems more dark next time round?

Reviews

[Michael G.]

You wrote this well. D-Day was on 6/6/1944. You conveyed the fears, thoughts, and sadness of war well.
I would not do more to make it "dark" as you say. It was dark enough on its own.
For more info... "Omaha Beach Memorial." It gives exact information of how the troops deployed and how many. The pictures will speak for themselves.
Good write.

[DWatts]

One of my favorite of yours so far. My favorite words being "quire of bullets become the soundtrack..."

You really capture the fear and anticipation of leaving the boats to charge those final steps onto the beach. None of us could ever imagine what those soldierrs went through, but your poem is dark enough to capture what we might picture they are thinking.

Great piece of work, can't fault it.

[Hibah Shabkhez]

Yes, it's 'dark' alright, if by that you mean intense. It strikes just the right note; unless you wish to be positively macabre, carry that no further.
Quite a blood-stirring piece...