The scalded soldiers

Slid over the top

Of the parched peak; waved,

Awaited the pop

 

Of reflexed wretchings -

The wretched allure;

Sweet shelling shrapnel

So bitter and pure.

 

Then dinning quiet but

Cliched tweeting; the

Eery aftermath

Of gorge filled eating.

 

The troops fall silent

'Til cries ring out and

Once more the trenches

Filled with doubt.