Over the Top

As I ran o'er the top,
I saw screams cut short,
Men swirled and fell all around,
Each bullet it's own target.
                                                     
The grass was green no more,
But littered with bodies and blood,
Soon we approached the German wire,
That is when I saw him.

A nineteen year old boy at best,
Dying in a corner,
He screamed at me to stop it,
To end his crippling pain.

Sworn by blood as enemies,
But I could not kill him,
I ran on,
I left him in his corner.
 
William Dawson