Aaron(AarionLee) Morris

Rookie (12/31/1961 / Gallipolis Ohio)

The Battle - Poem by Aaron(AarionLee) Morris

All of my comrades
fall to death around me
the reaper claiming his victims
as we fight to be free

As I lay in a pool of blood
pinned down like a fox on the hunt
I grow more and more weary
and I wish the fighting was done

The thunder of a thousand guns
the sounds of a thousand tears
ringing within my head
forever within my ears
The Battle

The stench of human rotting flesh
is the smell in the air
if I live to tell of this
the memory shall always be there

All is lost as we fight for our lives
fighting to survive we go on
pay the cost kill the enemy we strive
I am a fighting machine all senses gone

The memory of those times
seems like only yesterday
as we were trapped
to be slaughtered as easy prey

A battlion of men
all destroyed but a few
but I and some others somehow
escaped the reaper to start anew

Allied forces came to us by air
all is lost but we shall be back
forcing the enemy back to his lair
for the hunter will be the hunted when we attack

When each of my shots hits it's mark
all my glory will come
to revenge the death of my comrades
my fight will then be done

But then I must fight the battle
that is locked deep within my mind
all of the horrors that is in my soul
shall be with me until the end of time


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Read poems about / on: memory, lost, death, hunting



Poem Submitted: Thursday, April 15, 2004



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