From the front

They’ll write of this in years to come
diaries and letters from loved ones
at the front
at the very beginning of war
this ideology lost
amidst tired grey wet endless noise
last moments spent among the already dead
the short lived mourn free
cutting among the fields
but for a few yards grace.

This time to sleep
to dream of fields not churned
disastrous incisions made from far away
have the deepest cut and cause
the deepest pain.

Letters hand delivered
the fear of the unknown, missing or dead
fear not death
for it comes to us all
but the fear of not living is hard to behold.

Copyright D. Archer October 2011

Type something here preferably in English

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in: Logo

You are commenting using your account. Log Out /  Change )

Google photo

You are commenting using your Google account. Log Out /  Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out /  Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out /  Change )

Connecting to %s