Dying

By Amy

As I lay in the smokey trench
I gaze across Flanders Fields
I watch the poppies gently sway
As the wind continues to blow

I can taste warm blood in my mouth
Dirt between my teeth
The crosses stand, white and tall
A glimpse of what once had been

Helmets are stacked row on row
Shining in the dim light
Scattered parts that mark the fallen
Our boots stuck in the mud

I can see a comrade digging
No doubt that is my place
For I am slowly dying
And the dead will be replaced

Above my head are stars in the sky
Brilliantly they shine
False hope of a bright tomorrow
Oh how this world lies

The larks sail through the air
Despite the dark of night
Still they keep on going
Oblivious to our fight

I came here so long ago
Bravely leaving my home
I can remember singing “Amazing Grace”
If only I could do that now

A soft breath escapes me
I sense it fly through the air
Softly it touches the horizon
Only I know it is there

Scarce heard are the voices of men
Quietly they try to hide
Amid the bushes, inside the trench
Faithfully they prepare to fight

Guns are positioned, ready to shoot
I close my eyes to die
To try and forget this terrible war
Silently I begin to cry

For when this all is over
Burried below the poppy bed
We will always remember
Especially we who are dead