Trembling down in the trench, thinking of nothing but home,
Above I hear a roar, another mine has blown.
There is no turning back, the battle must go on,
Nonetheless it seems to me all meaningless and wrong.
As if one shot from me, will help the war at all,
My task is to 'go o'er the top', to fire and then to fall.
Of course I love my country, but I'm too young to die,
Echoing all around I hear the bitter battle cry.
I wish I hadn't come, I wish I wasn't here,
But it is far too late, and I'm overcome with fear.
I once felt so very proud that I was going to fight,
But how can any man have pride, after seeing this harrowing sight.
I long for freedom, and yet more for peace,
The day when this endless war will cease.
But for now I value every given breath,
For the time draws near when I shall meet my certain death.
Well written Moss. Welcome, I offer you big 10. Thank you.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
An insightful depiction of deepest emotions of a soldier, whose romantic idea about wars has been overthrown by reality of battle. Lovely piece of poetry elegantly brought forth in good rhyme scheme with conviction. Thanks for sharing Pippa. Please read my poem MANDELA - THE IMMORTAL ICON.