I wrote this after reading "The Charge of the Light Brigade" by Tennyson. I wonder if this is what it was like to be one of those who rode with the 600?

*I know some of my words don't make any sense. I was trying to capture the chaos of the battlefield and still write a poem. I hope you guys like it. -C



"What the hell was that?"
Cries of alarm and sirens blare
The shockwave knocked the building flat
How the hell did I get out of there?

"Run! Move! Get to your holes!"
No shit, where'd you think I was headed?!
Explosions shake me to my soul
This is the very thing I dreaded!

Across an open space I ran
Bullets pass like angry bees
But if I'm to die this night
I'LL STAND
I will not go out on my knees!

And now I'm in the hole with Buck
My buddy since basic training
He looks at me and says, "We're Fucked!"
I say, "At least it's not raining!"

"Look! Here they come! "
In waves, in force
A human wall, a fearful sight
The big guns open up Hell's doors
The bodies fall from left to right

Blood is flying
Men are dying
Bodies burn and flares shoot high
All that talk
of "Walk the walk!"
Don't mean shit when death draws nigh

Despite the defenses they're gaining ground
We shoot but they keep on coming
"Fall back behind the inner mound!"
I'm up and out and running...

Something hits me in my back!
The pain is beyond exquisite
But I keep moving, give no slack!
How'd I end up in this bullshit?!

Behind the berm we take our stand
A handful of boys made men by blood
And once again I bless the sand
And praise the gods it isn't mud

For now a great wind starts to blow
Dust rises, scouring out the light
And since we can't see where to go
Neither can the enemy! Isn't that right?

WRONG! They have us in their brackets!
The shells begin to fall anew
Amidst the Hellish screams and racket
No one knows just what to do

And so I rise up from my place
And run out to the front line
I run without regard for pace
Or wind or blood or even time

I know I'm dying anyway
So this is what I'm thinking:
"I'll take you bastards with me today!"
Berserk with rage, death's cup I'm drinking

I come upon the first of them
Hunkered down against the wind
My bayonet finds his throat (AHEM!)
I move to find my next victim

And here is one man, no wait! A boy!
He can't be more than fifteen!
Too bad that gun is not a toy
I do my best to kill him clean

A shout of alarm, a nearby CRACK!!
before something hits my stomach
I look down and see a scarlet track
Of racing blood running out from it

I roar in rage and hate and fear
I haven't had my fill of death!!
"You sons of bitches will all die here!"
Blood sprays from my mouth with every breath

My vision blurs, my heart is pounding
But I must push my feet to action
I step and trip and hit the ground then
I feel a sudden chain reaction

I feel no pain
I am apart
But I still see my
enemy
I must kill him
Eat his heart
I STILL SEE MY
ENEMY

I rise again and
stumble forward
Directly toward
a charging wave
Of men with guns
grenades and
knives

And make my stand over a waiting grave

Bullets tear into my flesh
They bite my bones, I feel them not
I open fire, splitting chests
send many men below to rot!

But then I somehow fall again
Back into the dark red mud
I see the bodies of boys-made-men
Lying on the ground, now soaked with blood

And before I die I see the face
Of the boy I killed here staring at me
"We'll meet again," his dead eyes say
"In the flames of Hell's eternity."