My friend still sat crying,
Because he was where people came after dying.
I knew something was wrong,
Though the war had far gone.
I had always fantasized the brutality of war,
But now the very thought of it made my jaws drop.
We had been good soldiers,
If not the best soldiers,
The terrain had been difficult,
And the ammunition had been minimal.
Seven days without food,
All of us were starving,
It were trees’ leaves that kept us alive.
The border had been invisible,
But the corpses made it visible,
I still remember, we had crossed it together,
Only to find the enemy too close for comfort.
My aim had been nothing but impeccable,
I yelled after the shot as blood splattered all over my face,
“One more down”,
As I fell to kiss my ground.
But all of that was past now,
And here I was, still amazed at my friend,
Who, had cried a little too long.
When, suddenly he got up and left,
A gush of air blew away the flowers he had kept on the grave,
I knew something was not fine,
and as i read my name inscribed on the grave,
I knew it was mine.
-
Author:
ironmaiden_81186 (
Offline) - Published: November 12th, 2010 03:38
- Category: Fantasy
- Views: 27
- Users favorite of this poem: Cheeky Missy
Offline)
Comments3
just a weird imagination
I'll say, whoa, creepy!....of course, you know, folk can read deeper into it and come up with...?...I'd have to think awhile to figure out what the deeper meaning might be....
I knw cheeky...its meant to creep ppl out...:)
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