World War One

ianan
W hispers here, whispers there,
  The wind is blowing in the air.
O ld, tired muscles start to ache,
  Shell bombs blow, lives they take.
R esting in ditches, cold and hard.
  No sign of love, not even a card.
L onely, shivering minds alike.
  The War's intention is as sharp as a spike.
D ashing around with enemies at aim.
  Fighting to survive that's the name of the game.
W arroirs soon turn away.
  The ground that turned cold where brave men lay.
A dead soldier is laying on the ground,
  Soft and still, not making a sound.
R ed Alert! Red Alert! The enemy is shown.
  The shell bombs are activated, then viciously thrown.
O ne in ten soldiers die,
  Dead on the floor they usually lie.
N ew recruits come, some only sixteen.
  Against the hard mud they're ordered to lean.
E nemies finally give up in the frost,
  But in World War One many lives were lost.

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