Strolls Through No-Man’s Land

Strangled light accentuates
The pock marked damnation
Of deformed no-man’s land,
Malformed haze devotedly
Pilfers our silent sights,

Stagnant water feeds death
Into the already crumbling
Horrors that await damned
Souls too honourable
To see the futility of our
Final acts upon the nothing
We patriotically claim
In the name of god, king, county,

From our pending grave
Misshaped hanging trees
Tangle and tear with steal teeth
All around our worlds,
Snaking, slivering, to find fresh meat
To feed their binding branches,

The whistle shrieks,
Ringing vociferously inside
Our metal wards once more
Echoing the banshees bite
That soon comes through
The forged smog to drag our
Friends down to the pits below,

We charge their lines, blindly
Walking into the endless fray
As detached bodies stumbling
Through forgotten dreams,
All around sharp devils scream,

The walk seems immeasurable
As we cower behind the fallen
Until the rattle begins to quieten
Again we charge lovingly at death,
Headlong with shying hopes
Of holding ground as dead as we,

The young fall victim to it again,
Swallowed into darkness
Through the sodden, muddy
Gates of impending hell,

You will not find us here,
Only what once remained
Of the loving touch and passion
We placed upon a world
That too soon forgets our sacrifice,


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