Flashbacks Poem by Ailbhe Eighteen

Darkness grew and subdued his crumbly depth,
He made the same facades and whimpers;
When he was at the war,
How could I say this without a pinch in my heart?
The old ruins and rugged battalions of thousands,
Pale, limbless, and lifeless comrades,
And even foes he shot.
I couldn't see what he sees,
But I see his so sick face hanging;
He crumbled with darkened eyes,
As his memory wandered in that death valley.