Heroes
Oceans once blue, churn deep in red
as yesterday’s heroes, lay dying or dead;
like a shoal of fish washed ashore
hundreds, thousands, countless more.
Skies once clear, plume with smoke
as targets are mapped, pinpointed to scope;
the burning of flesh, a rancid smell
this is where death, and evil dwell.
Soldiers of fortune are those with there lives
today maybe luck, but tomorrow, is a prize;
with rifles a Lance, as bayonets are drawn
for King and country, his life he has sworn.
For this is to be, his final stand
his body, pierced, as bullets land;
leaving the barrel to find a new host
as the bugle plays, a soldiers last post.
(1996)
#War