After The Battle Ww1 Poem by Steven Cooke

I felt his breath leave the battle field
as bayonet pierced his heart.
The surprise of death lay in his eyes
his blood poured warmth upon my hands,
anointing my soul with his.

His flow of life will find the earth
to merge with victims past
and another ghost will follow me,
shouting for my demise.

This lowly man who took the shilling
as Judas took his thirty,
now looks across this no man's land
for this corruption belongs to me.

Beneath this mud
lies the dreams of men
the commandments of life,
now lost within these decaying bones
for this war has silenced them.

And up above heaven receives
the righteous who take their place,
but the blood of my victims
are now a moat
and I would surely drown.
The dreams I have taken
will guard the gates
while angels turn their back to me.

I am the soldier who orchestrates the kill
my sins can wait in heaven.
The Holy Ghost can watch his time
for I am Lord this day.

It takes a soldier to humble the gods
for their power lies with me
a solitary man who has done his duty.
So God, send your laurels to me.

I am one of millions
Destined to be forgotten
But men were born with tears
our tears will match
any storm that you can send
For we are the battle
and death is our destiny

We who feed this moat of blood
now fear the morning mist rise?
For this grey belongs to dead men's dreams,
their sweet stench a reminder
of what's to come.
For tomorrow, I will be one of them.

Bury me deep
God must not find me
Anonymity will be my peace
Only Mother,
will remember me.