WWI Response:

Over the Trench

Bayonets On!
Grabbing the ice cold bayonet I cut myself.
I watch as the blood pours slowly down my trembling finger.
On the jagged path of life
It flows down, almost there, almost at the end.

Ready!
It’s there now, on the edge; the edge of life.
Twenty-eight years and it’s finally letting go.
Yet suspended in peace, it still grasps reality.
The rude awakening of my trembling
Starts and it begins to let go.

Set!
The time has arrived.
My blood droplet has finally let go
And with a mute cry, begins to fall.
Falling through the darkness of space
It heads downwards to the cold floor; the cold soul of Death.
Nothing can stop it now,
The impact will be too great to survive.

Attack!
I crawl over the trench and my blood droplet hits the floor.

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