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Victory
| Dark Poetry #1 |
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Victory |
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Wendy Flora Member
since 2000-01-11
Posts 182Virginia |
Herded into the truck, innocent as chattal, You are all rumbling to the field of battle. You have been trained for this, or So they tell you. The warm metal Of your piece soothes your nervous Fingers, and you find it suddenly Hard to swallow. You can hear the firing before you see it. You can smell the bitter smoke, too. It stings the back of your throat, like The first drag you ever had off a Cigarette. This doesn't help your Swallowing problem. A man stands and starts roaring orders, Flailing his arms in one general direction. You're not sure what he's saying, But you follow the man in front of you In a straight line like schoolchildren Out of the truck, feet hitting muddy ground In an ominous baptism. It all goes well for a while. You fire Blindly in the same direction as Everyone else, nestled gently in the Womb of the trench, feeling like it is All some elaborate backyard game - That will end at dinner-time when Your mother calls you. Then, the boy next to you is hit, The blood flowing forth in rivers, Mixing with the muddy ground in A sick pool reminiscent of Gilgamesh, And the order is given to advance. Your knees weak, you stumble on In lemming-like fashion. And you stand in the midst of the field, The scorching winds of Hell rise from The great maws torn into the earth. Every inch of your fragile body prays That one small chunk of flying metal Won't randomly collide with any Chunk of you. Eyes morbidly frozen on the next hill, You crawl forward without seeing, Your eyes occupied showing the Life you gave up on one shimmery, Strobic picture screen. Your lips Move dumbly, making promises to Loved ones in vain. Forget honor, loyalty, courage, duty, Perseverance, heroism, morality... Words spoken in a romantic delirium All you want is to feel your mother's hair, To smell your father's aftershave, Instead you are faced with an artillery Charge of mortality. The shell flashes white in front of Your vision, tiny shards of its body Flying out and tearing into yours. You feel as if a thousand razor blades Were making tracks in you, just passing Through as if on their way somewhere Some idle Tuesday... The picture show that was your vision Begins to skip, and as you feel your life Ebb away as if some chilling, wintery tide, And as your hand fumbles in your jacket For the photograph of a pretty child, Bright eyes smiling just for her daddy... A single cry - "Victory!" |
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| © Copyright 2000 Wendy Flora - All Rights Reserved | |||
SEA 
Moderator
Member Seraphic
since 2000-01-18
Posts 22676with you |
Wendy~ this is amazing...... more like a story.....such a sad one too....wow......-SEA [This message has been edited by SEA (edited 04-21-2000).] |
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Joel the wolf Senior Member
since 2000-04-06
Posts 1333Angels Camp |
Wendy did you follow me on the battle field? Or did you die there to? A good post, verrrrry vivid Joel. I howl a mornful song, that echos within my chambered heart, for all to read? nay for all to feel. |
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Wendy Flora Member
since 2000-01-11
Posts 182Virginia |
Thank you.  )If you guys have any suggestions, I'd welcome them. -wen |
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