Diary of a Soldier
At night, bracketed by gory sights of bleeding fleshes
Of unfortunate brothers succumbed to stammering calling of shells,
We staggered on and offered neither flowers nor wishes
Dangling in heavy grief and in Lucifer’s hell,
Dodging glimmers of lights and hugging darkened woods
Authority of life in our hands and glory of blood in our eyes
Tomorrow, our breathless brothers shall kiss the national hood
To final-salute the leaders before the woeful skies
Shrouded by proud yards of our national color
A plural glory for a thousand nights under the shells.
I, too may join the queue before dawn or more
As we embrace hell after hell
For Brian Strand's contest
Copyright © Joseph Osita | Year Posted 2011
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