This is my first war poem that I wrote for a class assignment. I'm not sure if it's good or not but, well, let's just see what people say. Enjoy!


A Firework Garden

We march through strange lands with a glorious pose,
Faces like chiselled marble or moulded iron, we march ahead
With our guns as our guardians, a reminder of our purpose,
The reason we leave scarlet poppies and tear tracks in our wake.

A BANG was the trigger – a blast and whiz from every direction,
They turn colossi into mud, a cowering ugly disgraceful mess
Hiding behind rubbles, screams and hollers become whispers
While they bleed – and bleed and bleed and bleed – until their end.

Shameless torture, unprepared deaths, all things horrific,
I watch them all fall, I saw how they fall, and I long for the fall;
Maybe the pain will be short, but their body wailed after death,
And I'm torn between living through hell, or dying through it.

NO! – No! No! No! I want to go home! – I hate this place!
And while guns and canons roar in delight, and shells harmoniously sing,
I remember sweet lies and pretty pictures, and I open the jewelled face
To find a nightmare, endless agony, dolls that have endured centuries of trickery.

Then I realise we have no choice but to survive the battle
Or not – the ground here looks more promising than the coming days,
And so five holes were pierced, and I finally join the sleeping corpses,
A thundering lullaby lulling us to sleep, a dream about happier days.

We run, stumble, limp, crawl, just to end their brawl,
To finally say "We've won!" and slip under our warm covers
And sleep and wake up and say "It's a dream! It was, after all!"
And so we dream, under the grey sky, amidst a firework garden.