Fay Slimm.

Trenched.

 

Trenched.

 

The sear of midday\'s acid heat

paled black mud as guns\' battle fervour

cracked ruts in trenched earth.

 

Nothing stirred but eddies of smoke

that smote burnt lips while choking breath

shuddered as life ebbed.

 

The unnumbered lists of lined names 

depict how massive was sacrifice

when sanity died. 

 

War pins no elation on those

who would have won global peace had

not greed beat compassion.