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Rated: 13+ · Poetry · Biographical · #2197269
After the buildup, bluster, and bravado...war becomes hell.
I know of war
on a bleak foreign shore
blood on the sands
blood on our hands
camouflaged faces
bullets and tracers
the relentless pound
of boots on the ground
muscles straining
faith in our training
the rockets red glare
bombs bursting in air

racing ahead
leaving our dead
snatches of sleep
too tired to weep
check your weapon
watch where you're steppin'
remember the drills
forgetting them kills
traps, trip wires
cold rations, no fires

I'm in dust, sand, mud,
bullets and blood
my shoulders are shaken
called 'til I waken
home in my bed
but it's stuck in my head
I'm wounded I know
but where it just doesn't show

G. Gabriel




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Printed from https://www.Writing.Com/view/2197269