Friday, 11 November 2016

Cannon-fodder




There is nothing left to feel
the mud and blood have sealed my eyes
there is nothing left to heal
even pain my mind defies
the whistling bombs and rattling guns
no longer frighten me to death
for Death is standing over me
arms folded, waiting my last breath.
To think that all I ever dreamed 
a life of love, and love of life
destroyed by powerful men who schemed
and used the likes of me in strife
They will never face such thoughts
as, smashed and shattered, I face now
The future will my bones expose
exhumed by shiny-breasted plough
and once again the shining sun
will warm my relics in the tilth 
and birds replace the booming gun
forgetting all this bloody filth.

© Rob King 11th November 2016

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