by | Aug 5, 2008 | Poetry | 0 comments

Armed and ready
Objectives so clear
Twelve soldiers set out
They show no fear
Rounding the corner
They enter the town
Before they know it
Bullets rain down

The troop have been ambushed
A planned attack
They make good their aim
And fire straight back
All hell breaks loose
Their vehicle is hit
They run for cover
From the thick of it

A place they find
Where all seems quiet
But the enemy is closing
All set for a riot
Fuelled by drugs, angered and wired
A man hunt they now start
The troop retreat to an abandoned house
Before they’re torn apart

Clearing each room, they head for the roof
Up the stairs they go
RPG’s start hurtling down
With a torrent of bullets to follow
Out numbered and tired, they fight for their lives
Their ammo is now running low
A decision is made to fight to the death
If this enemy won’t let them go

For what seems like an age, the fight goes on
All hopes of a rescue seem dashed
The commander turns to his sergeant and says
“We’ll make these bullets our last!”
The sergeant looks, nods his head with the rest
The look in their eyes says it all
If this is the end, they’ll do it themselves
This enemy will not make them fall

Suddenly at last; a familiar sound
An explosion out on the street
A warrior tank has come to their aid
The enemy now flees in defeat
Injured and maimed, they head for the tank
Heads down and running so fast
Then in the back they thank heaven above
This fight is over at last!


Submit a Comment

Your email address will not be published. Required fields are marked *