What War Can Do

Gunfire, like short, relentless hiccups, echo
in the minds of those with enough mind left
to understand that the screams to follow
are casualties of their baynet's breath

I stand upon the backs of fallen men.
I c*** my weapon and, under sandbags, take aim.
Only through misdirection could this moment sweeten
the hard silence to follow ammunition rain

Nothing is as terrifying as the face of a German boy,
close up they remind us of our sons at home.
Their guns held loose, like a small child's toy
until a bullet leaves them without a gravestone

Amidst the chaos, a tranquility can be found,
amongst the scores of men half blown
They lay still, eyes closed, littering the ground
dieing peacefully- even amongst war- blessedly alone