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Enter Poem or Quote (Required)Required The officer’s whistle opened the door, the pain of mortar did greet the damned and I did nap with death in no man’s land. In cold of night the stretcher did wake from peace to hell and burning pain. These eyes will see the stars no more, no comrades smile for me. The darkness has won for light has abandoned me and my face is for others to see. Am I alive? The pain agrees, my hand can feel this fevered brow. What will home think? to only half a man and will England still respect this man? The sound of an angel, who talks with God, a poor soul for sale, could that be me? And God condemns that I am not worthy, for others deserve better than half of me. And in my darkness Opium’s womb enters my veins the pain chased away by foetal claim, while the music of war in shrapnel fragment screams a tortured lament. And youth will queue to die in vain among the ranks of nightingales reign. These deities who tend this holy fodder grow distant with bloody rags. My mind feels the heat of shrapnel’s breath, the thought of box in foreign field the feel of sun and breeze denied and claustrophobia feeds my fear. Lonely is the grave with no goodbye and I do not want to die. But god is my surgeon and he is beat, the angel will deliver mercy and death will get his degree. For compassion was hers to give, the touch of her hand will wipe this brow. The cold of the scissors will cut the tag and I will join a corpse’s march obeying the ghost of captains orders uniting friend and foe in melting borders. In death I will believe and hope will leave this earth with me. My reward is tempered by sword and cross epitaph is poured over another loss. And country prepares to count the cost The drone of the letter this paper of man typed in halls by Vatican whores, delivering their knock on mother’s door. This pain of England’s son will lie in empty bed, silence will be hers to see. A candle for me in winter’s light but death will play in mother’s night. Her tears will wash this wooden cross, the house will cry for little boy lost and the dog will sit with eye on door, never to wag his tail no more.
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