War Poems

I.

It takes my breath,

Because it needs to breathe.

This battle has death.

Does it not leave?

Stooping into no-man’s land,

How do they not see it?

Oh it’s ghastly hand,

Am I the only one who sees it?

It looks like a soldier,

Not a Man.

The guns fall silent.

Silence sings a loud moan,

And all the valiant,

Die in the trenches alone.

II.

“Surely you are death!”

No fair maiden,

Death is far more kind.

To torture he is bested.

To death he is blind.

Death’s cruel cousin struck my breast,

And damned me to stay alive.