straining fearing body
screaming preservation
but hurling itself anyway
taking the full blast
Shrapnel shaving and poking
at the flesh
red pulp champagne
overflowing staining
cotton twine guts
the rare uncalled act
to sacrifice
to die for your mate
it’s a matter of conscience
quickening the spirit
embracing the loss
dying with a salvation smile
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem