October 2016



Only now, it's the birds that sing.

It's only, the dead, that... watch.

Though no longer hear.

For silence, fills their world.

As mud, now fills, my ears.

I lie, where I had fallen.

Near a trench, immersed in water, and filled with death. 

Where birds, once pecked.

Feasted, on warm, and rotting flesh!

Immune, to the sound of the bullets, and the screaming shells.

Lifeless.... limbs, hung on the wire.

Gently swaying, and ......

beckoning, on the breeze.

To fall, flesh stripped.

Beneath, the tide of war, and ...

Flanders mud.

100 years ago.

Where we still lie

Forgotten ...... 


Forever to remain

Giajl © Jim Love 

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mrpoofs's picture

Damn. Makes me think of

Damn. Makes me think of Maidens Paschendale. Filled with feeling this is