Soldier Poem by Bryony Sheldon
Soldier
The gun is loaded.
Warhorse thunders towards the front,
Straight towards the void.
My chest is burning.
The bayonets flash in the blackened sun,
Blinding our eyes.
The gun is loaded.
White knuckles are tight on the grip,
Yet I feel nothing.
In a foreign field.
We charge onwards to our fate
In a foreign grave.
The gun is loaded
And I rust some of my bullets
With stranger's blood.
Comrades fall.
Stiffened wounds begin to test our pride,
Coarse, raw, cold.
The gun is loaded.
It chuckles at the men I slaughter,
It laughs as they die.
I spend bullets,
Screaming at the sky as I charge on,
Deafened by shame.
The gun is loaded.
My victims fall tediously one by one,
I lose count.
He has no name.
I catch him in my cold sights,
He catches me, too.
The gun is loaded.
Our eyes meet for a mere split second,
And we know each other.
We hesitate.
I regain focus.
War is a game of survival, not compassion,
And I only have one bullet left.
I reach for the trigger-
BANG!
My gun is loaded.
They only have one bullet left, and yet their gun is still loaded at the end because they didn't shoot quick enough.
A good text is when we read it and like watching a movie. It seems to me that this is a love movie without a happy ending. I guess that " opponent" deserves it. I'm not a judge, but I know what number 10 is.
Your words honest and true. War is minutes and seconds. Thank you Bryony for sharing the powerful words and thoughts.
i read it before you have come to my pages after ages young gal The gun is loaded. Our eyes meet for a mere split second, And we know each other. We hesitate. war has no compassion only bullets for breakfast miss poetry
Revisiting this wonderful poem that can evoke intense feelings. Great and vivid images. Very gripping.
Well expressed thoughts and feelings. An insightful piece of poetry written with conviction. Thanks for sharing and do remain enriched.
Niely done, a brilliant tercet with vivid images. Thanks for sharing such a heartfelt poem
Never explain dear, Let the reader draw their own conclusions. They will usually infer wrong..... L.O.L.
In a foreign field. We charge onwards to our fate In a foreign grave.......You have succeded in getting deep into the mind of the soldier. thank u dear poetess. tony
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
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4/30/2024 7:19:37 AM # 1.0.0.1119
The intensity of the poem, the action, the images is very convincing, very well written! 10+ I remember Rupert Brooke's poem: If I should die, think only this of me: That there’s some corner of a foreign field That is for ever England....
just beautiful only RUPY could have composed it my be POET ME equally I remember Rupert Brooke's poem: If I should die, think only this of me: That there’s some corner of a foreign field That is for ever England..