The Soldier

We do not speak,
We feel we will promise anything
Just to be spared.
Spared the horror if being buried alive
Spared the feeling of tons of earth;
Falling upon us.
Crushing our bones
Beams shiver over our heads.
The explosions keep coming
Earth is falling from the ceiling.
Suddenly; the bombardment stops
Over as quickly as it began
We clear the debris from the stairs;
Thankful to be alive.

What god is there as mighty as the fury of bombardment
More terrible than lightning
More cruel and calcualting than an earthquake?
How will we ever be able to go back to peaceful ways?
Hear pallid preachers whimper of puny gods.
Gods who can only torment sinners with sulphur
We have seen a hell that no god.
However cruel,
Would fashion for his most deadly enemies.
Who can live through terror laden minutes
Hearing nothing but drum-fire
Who can live through that ordeal and not feel reason slip?
Who can live through that ordeal and not feel his manhood dissolve?

We all prayed during the manic frenzy of bombardment
Selfish, fear-stricken prayers
Prayers for safety; prayers for life; prayers for air
Prayers for salvation from the death of being buried alive.

At home they are praying as well
They do not pray for the same things.
They pray for victory while we pray for life
And because they pray for victory
We must lie here;
Rotting and trembling forever.

The debris is cleared away
We climb to the top of the broken stairs,
It is quiet and cool
As though nothing has happened.