nephilim56 ( Norman Dickson)

FROM A DISTANT LAND

If I should lose
The battle ahead
Cold marble laid
At my head
Upon a foreign soil
My body lay
These words I write
So I may say.

My love my wife
And dearest child
As we take aim
At enemies lines
In fear and dread
No hero I
Beneath the capony
Of dawns grey sky.

Two minutes till
Artillery reaches
From the sea
Beyond the beaches
Last letters written
With shaking hands
Sent to you
From a distant land.