2021.03.04.
Before an Attack
Marching to our deaths - we sing,But before then,
We can cry.
After all, the most terrifying hour in battle -
Is the hour of its anticipation.
The snow all around is pitted by landmines,
And blackened by their dust.
An explosion -
And my friend is gone.
And so - death has passed me by.
But soon it will be my turn,
For me alone,
The hunt goes on.
May you be cursed
The year 1941 -
You, infantry frozen in the snows.
It seems, that I am a magnet,
That I attract landmines.
An explosion -
And my lieutenant lets out a death rattle.
And death has yet again passed me by.
But we no longer
Have the strength to wait.
And through the trenches
We are lead by cold enmity,
Which drives its bayonet into our necks.
The battle was brief.
And then,
We drank frigid vodka,
And with a knife,
I picked out from under my nails
Someone else's dried blood.