Poems about War
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A Beautiful Paradox.
by Dc88crx
by Dc88crx
Its like a thousand brave men
With a thousand brave hearts
Fighting for survival
Trying to make it to the top
You fight for you own freedom
Whilst someone else's gets the chop
And as for all the dregs
you round them up
And cart them off.
The way i see it
It's a beautiful paradox
PRIDE AND GLORY
Mrs C.Richardson,York,UK
Falling comrades display
Soundless screaming faces
crumbling silently
amid flying shrapnel
Explosions destroying
Maiming mercilessly
leaving bloody torsos
Afghanistan safer?
Mrs C.Richardson,York,UK
Falling comrades display
Soundless screaming faces
crumbling silently
amid flying shrapnel
Explosions destroying
Maiming mercilessly
leaving bloody torsos
Afghanistan safer?
ANTHEM FOR DOOMED YOUTH
Wilfred Owen, 1917
Wilfred Owen, 1917
What passing-bells for these who die as cattle?
Only the monstrous anger of the guns.
Only the stuttering rifles' rapid rattle
Can patter out their hasty orisons.
No mockeries now for them; no prayers nor bells;
Nor any voice of mourning save the choirs, –
The shrill, demented choirs of wailing shells;
And bugles calling for them from sad shires.
What candles may be held to speed them all?
Not in the hands of boys but in their eyes
Shall shine the holy glimmers of goodbyes.
The pallor of girls' brows shall be their pall;
Their flowers the tenderness of patient minds,
And each slow dusk a drawing-down of blinds.
Only the monstrous anger of the guns.
Only the stuttering rifles' rapid rattle
Can patter out their hasty orisons.
No mockeries now for them; no prayers nor bells;
Nor any voice of mourning save the choirs, –
The shrill, demented choirs of wailing shells;
And bugles calling for them from sad shires.
What candles may be held to speed them all?
Not in the hands of boys but in their eyes
Shall shine the holy glimmers of goodbyes.
The pallor of girls' brows shall be their pall;
Their flowers the tenderness of patient minds,
And each slow dusk a drawing-down of blinds.
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