Question

Poem on horrors of war

Answer 1

Of the horrors of war we hear every day
And of death and destruction in cities far away
And any lesson it would seem not learned from the past
And mistrust and enmity for centuries last.

Through hatred and warring peace is never won
And one war leads to more wars when all is said and done
And hatred is handed down from father to son
For to start off a war it does take more than one.

Those who for their sense of revenge extreme violence pursue
To their higher selves they can never be true
The value they place on human life seems very cheap
But the karma they sow is the karma they will reap.

Where mistrust and hatred is rife peace it never does grow
The war supposed to end all wars ended decades ago
But lessons not learned from the past and it does seem sad to say
That in war zones more people are injured and dying every day.
Francis Duggan

Answer 2

Exhausted,
Like a car,
ran out of fuel.
Dead,
All around you,
Harsh as hell.
A family,
of soldiers,
walking shoulder to shoulder.
The world,
you are carrying,
just like a boulder.

Running,
Away from the madness,
But not going anywhere.
Because,
tomorrow you know,
You'll be back there.
Sleep,
The best thought
And to go home to England.
But,
You can't escape The chaos,
in Afghanistan

You
are a Zombie,
in indescribable pain,
And know,
you might never,
see your family again.
Nothing,
all senses gone
from you.
But then,
you seem to know
What's happening around you.

You want,
to collapse and fall,
into a sleep.
And Dream,
because reality,
has cut you too deep.
Run,
we've fulfilled,
our purpose here.
Run,
before the gas,
fills the air.

It's horrible,
seeing someone,
slowly dying for you.
It's like,
a hole in your heart,
slowly eating away at you.
All,
you see is
his teffified face, red and hot.
It's only,
then you realise,
this nightmare must stop.

A fog,
but as majestic,
as a fairy tale.
A plane,
flying through clouds
that are green, pale.
He's stumbling,
towards you,
and it hits home.
A stab,
in the back that,
He'll never go home.

His skin,
wrinkled and pale,
Oxygen deprived.
He says,
it's like a fire,
thats burning inside.
Could you,
watch a good man,
who fought for his nation,
die,
because you know
there's nothing to save him.

You want,
to collapse and fall,
into a sleep.
And Dream,
because reality,
has cut you too deep.
Run,
we've fulfilled,
our purpose here.
Run,
before the gas,
fills the air.

Then,
the tears come,
down and down.
But you don't,
try, like men do,
to stop them now.
How much,
could you bear
or even dream.
to think,
what it's like
out here as me?

people say,
it's the best
to die in this way.
But you,
know all too well,
that there's better ways.
He's Just
another soldier out of
millions dying that you see.
A nightmare,
But wake up boy,
This is reality.