Speaking From the Front Lines
Dread felled my fellows hearts, woes unseen from those on high
Bled, swells my fellows hearts, foes unseen from hills nigh'
Crashing, sweeping, weeping, boom and splashing, near imposing doom
Locked in the mortal struggle gloom and gnashing of teeth, untidy groom
Dusty fields span the horizon, vast as any ocean seen
Grizzly bodies ash like iron, casting shadows over scene
Swords and sheilds differ, where heroes have lain before
Battles the same occur, when politics tend to ignore.
Ghastly figures huddle amidst the filth and pray
Strange sounds echo adrift, fires lithe by day
Unknowing the missions ends, purpose to what is wrought?
Childrens pale faces grim, failing to see purpose fought.
Copyright © David Welch | Year Posted 2008
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