The Aftermath

 Although my blood I've shed
 In war's red wrath,
Oh how I darkly dread
 Its aftermath!
Oh how I fear the day
 Of my release,
When I must face the fray
 Of phoney peace!

When I must fend again
 In labour strife;
And toil with sweat and strain
 For kids and wife.

The world is so upset
 I battled for,
That grimly I regret
 The peace of war.


The wounds are hard to heal
 Of shell and shard,
But O the way to weal
 Is bitter hard!
Though looking back I see
 A gory path,
How bloody black can be
 War's Aftermath!

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