My Fallen Brother
White marble stones
Stand proud in the sun
To remember my colleagues
The heroic fallen ones
Many a battle
Many a campaign
Some did return
For some never the same
On the green grass I stand
Blue sky above
The souls of my comrade's
Like peaceful sitting doves
The name on this stone
Reminds me of the day
My best friend and brother
Was taken away
An offensive was launched
Brothers at war
Bunker to take
At the top of a tor
Smoke screen exhausts the view to the hill
As we wind our way through
Zipping bullets, blood spill
Noises of lead, as they rip through the flesh
As we hit the barbed wire
Now a scarlet stained mesh
Objective in sight as we approach our aim
As I hear the groan of the injured
Many dead, maimed
Grenade pin pulled
Bunker window we lob
Hands sweating
How many lives will we rob
Explosion flash, shouts of pain
As the smoke lifts on this bloody terrain
We enter the Bunker
To witness our task
The enemy lie distorted
Faces grimace, death mask
I turn to my brother to signal it's safe
As a shot rings out in this theatre place
He stands still for a moment
Eyes glazing and cold
The death of my sibling
At 19 years old
As I open my eyes and turn to my son
I see what I have as he holds my grandson
Family values, love and a bond
As I remember my brother
Of whom I was so fond
I proudly walk past, salute as I go
The white stones standing proud
Peaceful doves in a row
I find myself fortunate to stand here and tell
To talk of my brother, and the fallen as well
.
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