Whilst caked in mud my bandage ‘holds the line’
Defence from onslaught of a kind, unkind
Should banks be breached, twould serve to undermine
As blood would seep; then with lost comrades bind
Such sorry state doth all confront ‘round here
When torn betwixt said righteousness and wrong
Young men hath grown somehow to conquer fear
Midst carnage of unsightly, heaving throng
Existing circumstance by stealth constrains
That wouldst one day, my plea from trench be heard
No more this dreadful urge within one’s veins
To take a life from life; one’s soul is pared
Pray rid the darkness from my weary plight
By turning other cheek, perchance shed light