The wooden wheels stumble and groan
slipping clumsily on the muddy ground
wounded soldiers sit with heads bent down
listening to the shells being fired all around

The creaking and constant shuddering
dire views of splinted Ash and Oaks
burnt trucks are all about their path
and fuel filled air that makes them choke

None of them usher a word, some stare blankly
this their bitter nightmare retreat
this wretched column of twenty carts
faces grey and broken by defeat

The horses snort sweating profusely
dragging their wretched bedraggled cargo
this is all that is left of a mighty army
many pray homeward bound, they meet no foe

Down to the beach soon they will reach
there to meet others in silence
who look for signs on the distant horizon
for boats of relief from this violence

By Christos Andreas Kourtis aka NeonSolaris


© 2011 NeonSolaris (All rights reserved)