One can only imagine what it was like…
The booming thunder of distant bombs
Shaking the most solid of foundations
Until they were but rubble of the ground.
Families scattered and torn
With scarce knowledge concerning the endurance of loved ones.
Boys becoming men,
Still young and too innocent
Yet cradling a bullet firing gun and releasing grenades.
They were creating the bombs
They were the bringer of passing,
The witnesses of death.
They were very much afraid,
Muddy and clothed with the stench of trenches
Sick by cause of endless icy air
Shaking in anticipation of battle
With sweat covered brows
And cloudy minds.
Grieved by the lives they took,
The ones still to take,
The ones they had already lost.
Disaster and devastation befell all
Those blessed with distance from the terror
Still felt the sting of war’s horror
As they anxiously awaited sons, husbands, brothers, and fathers
Who kept no promise of return.
What could man do against such recklessness?
Recklessness created by man.
Why does man begin what every man longs to prevent?
The cloth clinging to a boy’s body
Stained with the red that was supposed to remain blue
Covering the flesh that was supposed to remain sealed.
And the life of that child
Precious and pure as it was
That life that was destined for death
Which should have thrived
But was stolen by an explosion.
The piercing scream of a mothers cry
With the discovery of death
Her child,
Her flesh,
Gone.
One can only imagine what it was like…
~ Bessie King ~
Powerful! Thank you
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