Trying To Write About Trench
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A morphing buoyancy, and with disastrous morrow breeze.
Deluged of memories, they dug beneath a shadow that dripped of pointed ice.
My hands were toughed by viral frost.
And cannon foddered men lay ailed absent, and ailed absent to deadlock corrosion.
So sit back men.
Refused, an odour sourish at us
Awoke preying rounds
Having a tremble,
And then be dared to move
Swift and subtle..
But the command..
We charge to battle!
Not a tribute, I am bored.
LEST WE FORGET
“They shall grow not old, as we that are left grow old. Age shall not weary them, nor the years condemn. At the going down of the sun and in the morning, we will remember them.”
Deluged of memories, they dug beneath a shadow that dripped of pointed ice.
My hands were toughed by viral frost.
And cannon foddered men lay ailed absent, and ailed absent to deadlock corrosion.
So sit back men.
Refused, an odour sourish at us
Awoke preying rounds
Having a tremble,
And then be dared to move
Swift and subtle..
But the command..
We charge to battle!
Not a tribute, I am bored.
LEST WE FORGET
“They shall grow not old, as we that are left grow old. Age shall not weary them, nor the years condemn. At the going down of the sun and in the morning, we will remember them.”