Hell

Where do they come from?
Chlorine, Mustard
The bombs
The whistling bullets overhead
Taking cover, must move forward
Brothers in arms
But why are we here
This god forsaken place
Longing to be home
Where love covers me in warmth
But I'm not there
I'm here in hell
Fear in everyone's eyes
 Unbearable.

Gun fire from here and far
The disgusting sound of pain
Feeling sick
With what my eyes have seen.

Bodies

Not in a graveyard
But here in no man's land
One by one they were picked off
Fathers, sons and brothers.

"Keep going lads it'll be over soon..."
But will it?
Is there no end to this horror.

Thomas Addison