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.
-
Author:
Fay Slimm. (
Offline) - Published: October 8th, 2020 02:58
- Comment from author about the poem: LEST WE FORGET.................
- Category: Unclassified
- Views: 58
Offline)
Comments6
said just as it was then, and as it needs to be said .. over and over and always ...
Agree with your comment wholeheartedly Nev, - - the travesty still speaks to us - - - lest we forget.......................x
Never will they learn....... someone always making a profit behind it all.... I despair........
That's great Fay - up there with A.D. Hope's 'Inscription for War'.
Good for you.
Good write Fay.
As one civilisation begins to learn, healing the wounds of conflict bourne wisdom ... so another rises beneath a despot bent upon accumulation of whatever it takes to sate it's need for power.
Blood flows and wisdom again rises too late from the bloodbath only to be shortlived.
And so we approach the saddest month of rememberance.... but with what new resolution.... with what wisdom that will make a change....
war brings the big money,evil men cause wars
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