The Eastern Front: A Poem

It shoots forth, like flame from mount Olympus

It wheels out, like the pillar of fire

Yet no mythic power, no primal lust

Appears here to act forth man’s desire

 

Forth from mud comes screaming insanity

Dark recess and hopeless calamity

Hordes of soldiers, crazed, fanatical

Endless lines of monsters mechanical

 

Human life wasted in the bloody lake

Human flesh crushed, chewed up and spit out

It seems the end of times as the world shakes

Nation’s of corpses piled in a mount

 

And over all bestride the waste two men

Like primeval gods stare from out their dens

And with a whim gargantuan in scope

Create hell, soldiers abandon all hope

 

Fields of whitewashed bones in the Russian snow

Break neath feet of stupefied traveler

Where is the value of human life blown?

A button makes a man its unraveler

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