A Great War

Shuddering and thundering, as the ground shakes

vermillion and violent the great shells fall thickly down.

As the great empty and lonely expanse slowly awakes,

men stumble forward on through the muddy ground.

Overhead, heaps of cast iron light and somber dirt

rise - flung recklessly upwards by careless bombs.

Here and there a poor soul lies helpless and hurt

Bullet shod, wire bitten, as the mud entombs.

Abject Terror creeps silently across the field,

seeking out its victims in trenches and pits

the gas pours down to where the men have kneeled.

Clutching masks, hacking, and coughing in fits,

begging for the gas to pass quickly on through.

Soon the wind turns, and both sides are wheezing,

scrambling forward to the trench just out of view

as their phantom enemy keeps striking and squeezing.

For King or for country they struggle on forwards,

Into the depths of danger and the teeth of rage.

Tragic and fragile, like broken shore birds,

ready to die to turn history’s page.