Is It Poetry
Death In Battle
Human rights reserved I board that ship.
Grinning skulls white before you loose your breath.
Rising horses reaching hooves strike down.
Smooth bore muskets shredding flesh cry out.
Bonney lads hold on to mum and die.
Sadly dad he holds the sight inside.
Canon both the boys and lads the sky lights up.
Bloody ditches crush the souls of all that hide.
And death in battle sets the stage for all that might.
When glory is their living honour guard.
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Comments about this poem (Death In Battle by Is It Poetry )
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