They call out
Their obnoxious repetitive sound
As their wounds worsen
Their screams strengthen
Secluded snipers
Pick us off
One after another
In a continuous wave
Eerie silence surrounds
And the stench overpowers
Their screams silenced
As their blood pools around them
The everlasting presence of death
Drives some insane
The wind, rain, bullets and shells
Are all too much for others
The only way I stay motivated
Is knowing I am stronger, smarter, luckier
Than the motionless
Lying in piles around my feet
My luck once found
Is now unbound
As my heart begins to pound
I launch my head above the mud mound
It is my turn to charge
Full throttle I go up the ladder
Ready to fight
Ready to die
Ninety years on
I still carry on
Being brave and loyal
Beneath heavy white crested stone
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
Bravo! Eben, you are gifted. Ruthy