Could you recognise the unholy screams of planes firing throughout the sky?
Poor guys impaled on spikes of war, corrupted hiding in the trenches.
Almighty, flash of light, filling the screaming, beating sky.
The guys in the trenches,  not afraid to die,
Or are they?
If it means their honour's kept intact.
The ****** soldiers, facing the war for the first time ever.
Doing their duty, proud men.
On the payroll on the nation.

Bombs continued dancing on the skyline, in their nonchalant way.
Smell the hanging death, it's strung throughout the atmosphere.
And still they watched and hid, and still they smelled the terror,
The terror they keep inside, not allowed to be afraid, caught upon the storming skies.
During the latest fatal air raid.
A storm of sand invades,
The sand blamed for  the eviction of their tears.
Stiff upper lip is frigid!
(c) Livvi