The Devil’s forest.

There are degrees of insanity,

(an unsettling subject)

incarceration is protection:

for whom? ….

We moved swiftly through the woods,

admiring the beauty, ducking frequently,

as enemy fire deafened us,

looking up for enemy snipers,

watching the trees disappear

in hails of bullets and shells exploding,

tearing trees and bodies apart,

still we struggle on,

trying to dig in,

as wave after wave

of infantry storm towards us,

measured savagery in their eyes,

yet they like us are just teenagers

trained to kill and die,

to save the world (from what?)

Bumf, a shell falls nearby,  buries

John alive, in horror we dig him out,

he says thanks and picks up his rifle,

and we all return fire;

the forest is down to twisted stumps,

with bodies draped across the ground,

and we still fight on, killing all the while,

our supplies are out, so we lute ammunition

and food from nearby corpses,

not caring whether they are ours

or the enemy, but we must survive

and hold back the enemy,

just as ordered.

we kill and kill,

though we are getting less,

Fresh troops eventually come in;

we stagger a tattered bloody hand full

from the forest, which we had captured

and then held against the odds for six days.

I ended up in this asylum,

where my family has the right to visit me,

and still I think:

For what? to protect who?


Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in: Logo

You are commenting using your account. Log Out /  Change )

Google+ photo

You are commenting using your Google+ account. Log Out /  Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out /  Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out /  Change )


Connecting to %s