War ode

Like sheep, we were herded to our dirty graves
And as we trudged, we sang
It seemed a winding funeral song
For murder not yet begun
But the sweetness began to dwindle
And our boots grew heavier than we could ever have imagined

LATER

Endless boredom
Sitting in infested puddles
Trying not to scratch
The red bites that burn and itch
Would it be better to be fighting?
Better to be weeping on the ground?
Shell shock that tears the senses
Nerves shattered
Do we really want to end up like that?

LATER

Yellow green, it came at us
Weaving insane patterns in the still air
Time hung, motionless, as we watched,
Open-mouthed, before the scramble for gas masks began
We thought we had made it
But a man without a mask began to retch
And slowly drowned before our startled eyes
Reality flooded back
And once again we heard the sounds of war

LATER

Now the roar of guns has ceased
We stand, a minute before we climb to our death
These men
I have lived with them through all this
And now I must watch them slaughtered
One man shot already
Shaking violent as the shells began to whine
Coward, they called him
I knew him as a brave man
But war can stab the mind and break the heart
Well, boys
It's over the top with you
To death or glory,
Is there a difference any more?

***Inspired by 'Dulce et Decorum' by Wilfred Owen:
http://www.cwrl.utexas.edu/~benjamin/316kfall/316ktexts/owendulce.html