Break Of Day In The Trenches

As I walk to the frontline, I hear the calling, mortal whine.
The sound of shells everywhere, I see people, sit and stare.
The smell of fear in the air! Is my future over there?
My grave is made for me, a creator hole.
Lie in there and 'god take my soul'
I'm too exhausted, tired and warn-out,
I want freedom! I want out!!!
It's too dirty, smelly and damp,
Thirsty and hungry are the men who camp.
While the rat and lice emotionally drain their souls,
Anxiety lies here as well as the foes.
Friendship lies around our men, brothers we are until the end.
A fresh day starts, my memories unfold,
At eight o'clock, over the top we go!

M. Cox

Mon, 21/07/03 (1406hrs)