Winter is Coming-

It is cold in these trenches as winter draws nigh,
Where the air is so putrid, and the stars are so high.

We drag on a fag until our lungs burst,
Then sigh from our anguish of dry throat and thirst.

Our hands keep on shaking, our knees tremble too,
The bold and the brave remain, but a few-

That look for the morrow, when headlong we run,
Into hells fury named a Gatling gun.

Severed limbs, a heart not pumping,
The sound of screams from a mouth still jumping.

A mate, blown away through the hatred of men,
Whose blood curdling rituals hide the demon's den.

I think, and I ponder on this night before pain,
How the death of a Duke, brought a world filled with pain.

I will try to gain courage, be a soldier of might,
In this first world war battle, where lies no wrong from right.

Lest We Forget WW1, WW2, and subsequent battles -Emily Edwards.

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