Breath

The Great War:

Breath steams and pours from dry lips

Boots sink and squelch in mud

Dirty nails bite tooled wood

Mortars fall like mothers tears

Splashing to earth like falling stars

The rain stops

The fire lifts

The whistle blows

A shout

A shout

Comes like a whisper in the breeze

“Charge the wall! Charge the wall!”

 Ladders we climb

Fields we storm

Bullets we let fly

Blood we spill

Mire we fall to

Breath steams and pours from bloody lips

Thunder rolls with the ring of guns

Rain begins to fall

Pinging and clinking on dented helmets

Shakily written letters bleed into the freezing ground

Blood soaked words that lovers will never see

Tear soaked farewells fathers will never give