The battle it has ceased
Many comrades strewn around
The dead and the blinded
The bomb craters crackle loud
The rising steam and heat
Fills lungs with acrid air
I dream of home and family
Wishing I was there.
Life it ebbs
But slowly
Upon this wretched
Piece of ground
The wounds are not
So painful now
Theres a calm
With natures sound.
But slowly now
Yes once again
Life it ebbs
All is sane
Natures song
All around
To die upon
This wretched ground.
-
Author:
nephilim56 ( Norman Dickson) (
Offline) - Published: September 20th, 2026 02:18
- Category: Unclassified
- Views: 3
Offline)
Comments1
Good write N.
The wretched ground of this bus stop. lol.
Bus stop now classed as my 2nd home, even paying council tax lol
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