Loos, France, Fall 1915
Slaughter amongst the slag heaps
Bodies bowed over barb wire
Screeching, screaming
artillery arching above
soon to descend
amputating limbs
shattering skulls
blood and brains
splattering stains on
comrades too close
mixing with the mud
Grappling with grenades
Supplies short
London, Lancashire
and Lancaster lads
battling like beasts within
that Hohenzollern horror
hoping to hold it
Bayonets tear through torsos
Poison perfumes the air
wafting on the wind
back where it was birthed
menacing their own men
In Cite St. Auguste
citizens burrow into basements
as if Armageddon has arrived
or roam the streets like revenants
blank and bleary eyed
Their conscious mind
cannot comprehend
the malevolent madness of
what was once believed to be
a sane and civilized society
In the cemetery are set up
machine gun nests
among the monuments
As shells pound the ground
the dead are dredged up
as if to welcome the
new arrivals lying in piles
A sacred space sullied
by sadism
Schadenfreude
Flares flicker
Very Lights
to continue the fight
throughout the night
No rest for weary warriors
as no reserves arrive
to relieve them
Poor planning on the part
of generals pushing papers
and marking maps that
have no relevance to reality
ordering insanity
It has been more than
a year since Ferdinand fell
and Princip with his pistol
opened wide the gates of hell
Copyright © Angela Douglas | Year Posted 2021
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