A New Battle Born

War Torn

War Torn,

a new battle born,

and the number of deaths increasing,

as the blood rained without ceasing,

soldiers came out of the trenches,

black with mud,

the air filled with stenches,

suddenly quiet for a moment,

they didn’t even talk about the bloated corpses,

there was nothing said,

as starving dogs gnawed

at the bodies of the littered dead,

thousands of women and children fled,

hungry, and they could not be fed,

some stripped leaves off of the trees,

and ate them,

as the hunger pangs

were carried through the breeze,

and for that second,

time would freeze,

dark, no lighting,

exhausted and there was constant fighting,

their future carved,

as the soldiers were miserable,

crouched and starved,

that humanity was put to a test,

they continued firing all night long,

so they would get no rest,

as the weak was swallowed up by the strong.

© 2011 Frank Atanacio

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