The Battlefield of Death

By Auggie Johnson

The battlefield of death from the soldier’s last breath,

Where the rats rule racing trenches

The gunfire at the battlefront

The bodies lie in the poppy flowing graves

for each dying soldier

They know their pain

One by one they drop like rain

Men grieve for their fallen friends,

others they draw near

wishing the nightmares will finally end

Fighting day and night,

Sending out soldiers

ready for battle but unprepared

for what’s happening…

BOOM!

Silence

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