A screaming silence envelops the land, <br />Ghostly armies are marching. <br />Not even the sound of a muffled drum <br />To mark the soldiers passing. <br /> <br />A desolate landscape, torn and seared, <br />Blood soaking into the earth. <br />Ragged banners wave to and fro, <br />Freedom struggling to birth. <br /> <br />The silence is only in the head. <br />Only the eyes can hear. <br />Shattered remains lying there, <br />Of those that we held so dear. <br /> <br />We answered the call <br />And flocked to the flag, our duty plain to see, <br />We stood so proud in our uniforms, <br />Knowing the enemy would flee. <br /> <br />But the enemy; was just like us. <br />Answering the same sort of call. <br />The same old speeches, but in another tongue, <br />Our leaders did not want to fall. <br /> <br />Urging us onward from afar, <br />Safe in they’re manmade caves <br />Exhorting us to kill the foe <br />We, their foolish braves. <br /> <br />And so we died on the battlefields, <br />Sundered by shot and shell, <br />Many would grieve on this day, <br />Victory? Only history will tell.<br /><br />Brian Joseph Dickenson<br /><br />http://www.poemhunter.com/poem/a-screaming-silence/
