He stands alone, gun in hand
Amongst his comrades in a God forsaken land
Bullets fly like pouring rain
As in the distance the bombing starts again
His water canteen shot full of holes
In his boots his feet feel like red hot coals
All that marching through the night
A sorry bunch in the moon so bright
The order comes from up the line
Charge straight and true
Now those in charge now know what to do
Our intrepid hero puts his life on the line again
In the muck and bullets, the blood, the pain
Onward they rush over hill and dale
No way have they wanted this charge to fail
Bullets fly, cannons roar
No peace amongst the blood and gore
Where will he be later, heaven or hell?
It’s onwards and upwards so who can tell
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Author:
cully45 (
Offline) - Published: June 1st, 2024 06:16
- Comment from author about the poem: Just a few lines of thought.
- Category: Unclassified
- Views: 8
Offline)
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