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#trenches
The men go marching Down and down Hurah, Hurah To their deaths they marched Today forever Blood and bodies line the trench Rats and guns Are just as deadly In the trenches they Fought for blood Not of hate But directions told to their deaths they marched for years
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Feb 16
Feb 16, 2026 at 10:38 PM UTC
The "Great" War
Now at the end of all things As we're breathing sulfur and Lead's pouring over our heads I'm glad you're the one I'm Sharing the trenches with
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Mar 3, 2025
Mar 3, 2025 at 12:29 PM UTC
Trenches
_We burrow where they lie, our fallen brothers. Old sweats and fledgling crow bags, both. In death as in life, they have our back…and so we plough on into the abyss by the light of a caged phosphorus flare, hot metal spraying the midnight hour like some vengeful fay’s buckshot. A human scaffold supports us for the distance of four miles. That’s Piccadilly to Hampstead; Circus to Heath. The length of a lifetime…of  hundreds of lifetimes. In the winter when the rains come and the trenches run like a quartermaster’s latrine, the soil sloughs away to reveal the ossuary within. It is then that I, in my now customary delirium, imagine that I can reach out to shake their hand again._
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Nov 11, 2020
Nov 11, 2020 at 3:11 PM UTC
They Shall Not Grow Old | 11/11
I've seen your trenches,and I've seen your graves, I've heard of your weapons and heard of your slaves, I've imagined the fumes and imagined the rain, I've imagined the sights but can't imagine the pain. Not from bayonets,nor shrapnel blasting out, But from the vision of the gunshot taking the Fritz down. From the riddling guilt as your hand pulled the trigger, Which wiped out the unknown,young German figure. From the nightmares of his family collapsing at the news, That their beloved son had succumbed to his wounds. You look over these beaten fields awash with confusion, Wondering how on Earth humans partake in such delusion. How they thought,somehow,it'd be the most fitting plan: "To sort out all of the world's problems-set man after man!". You walked out on that field regardless, till your last dying breath. And you made sure,under all circumstances, to fight until death. For this I'm forever grateful and still can't suffice, Why we give you two minutes a year, when you gave us your life.
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Dec 7, 2018
Dec 7, 2018 at 3:19 PM UTC
To the people I left in France
Lining up in rows waiting for the music, Dancing in the puddles counting seconds, counting bruises. Waiting for forever for a never ending cause, Wishing for a well that's filled with open windows open doors. The sky is thickening with the things that have been done; Leaking with regrets of present thoughts, it might be fun! As the tone is drumming, the sprinters run off blind But when the drumming stops, oh the horrors you will find. One leg in front another and before you know you'll fly, But the angels don't take killers, manipulated or the wry. Saving all the people living in your narrow minded view, The angels that you follow will make demons out of you.
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Mar 16, 2020
Mar 16, 2020 at 1:39 PM UTC
Counting with gunshots
In 1914 when the cold wind blew, Through no-mans land with a familiar tune. In two opposing languages, Both sides sang, In perfect harmony, Their voices rang out. Two brave souls who started it all, Risked their lives for a game of ball. Germany and UK played side-by-side, Enemies who became friends despite their divide. A Christmas truce and a miracle of war, A handshake that would become much, much more.
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Nov 21, 2018
Nov 21, 2018 at 4:39 PM UTC
Christmas Truce of 1914
By Arcassin Burnham If heaven had a green light, Telling you to go for what you want, Dividing all the sacrificed from the saved, State of limbo doesn't seem right, We always don't get what we want in life, You'd rather have a life,Then all your family looking at your grave, Safe to say man! that kid was brave, I had a wish for you, It seem to fade away, Almost knowing things were true, So the lies will fade away too.
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Jan 6, 2015
Jan 6, 2015 at 12:49 AM UTC
"An Angel's Love"
The battle is won, the war is lost And at what cost? The heart of a boy Only built to destroy No matter what he tried                                          He tried No matter who was right                                               Who was right? No matter if he lied                                                                  He lied No matter, there was a fight                                                                             There was a fight And his war raged on and on Lovers present and lovers gone The battle is won, and the tears pour on A wounded heart, a wounded soul All alone in no man’s land The enemy, strong, took its toll Left his friends to disband The girl in his pocket can’t save him now From these hellish sights and hellish sounds The battle is won, but the war is lost And at what cost? The heart of a boy Only made to love and destroy
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Jul 13, 2013
Jul 13, 2013 at 2:57 PM UTC
The Battle