The tale begins with A Man who is looked up to and loved by his fellow comrades
He Fills fellow soldiers with hope and care for one another
The barbed wire scrapped against his cheeks by night as he gives up his bed for one of his many men
The dirt curved over his body, resting like a corpse with a temperature and a pulse
When the light fades the night strikes hard, weeps from a lonely tunnel fill the trenches while everyone sleeps.
The man weeps and weeps till he's dry, Scared of the gun he holds with his fingers
Scared of the bullets that he loads to his magazine
Scared of his comrades dying when he loves them so dearly, the man who people enjoyed to talk to and looked up to, is the one man who can't keep himself together
He holds this mask close to his chest, for he doesnt want hope to be enclosed by fear
He clutches his helmet close once more and stares off to the pile of burning dead soldiers
"The day is young, like the men i lay with. The night is cold, like the enemies i fight against"
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Aspects Of War
PoetryWar doesnt just have to be about the bullets and guns, it can be everything in between, the factory workers that built the ships. The farmers who grew the crops and their fight for balance and survival. The war between Man and Man, Humankind and Mac...
