Snow on the battlefield


Grenades are falling like snow,
For each snowflakes there is an explosion.
In this icy hell, everything needs our attention.
Snow on the battlefield, seems to me,
Like an empty page, we are writing history,
With our red blood, we try to save our nation.
My comrades fall, one by one. I don’t believe in reincarnation ;
Now they are dead, and no one remembers their name.
They die for ou country, what a shame ?
Our country can’t give them funerals ;
Their bodies are put behind some walls
As if they didn’t exist… but they were here !
In trenches, everywhere !
Their souls keep haunting me ;
The world war is ending, but not the war in my head.
Snow continues to fall, trying to hide the holes,
The landscape has some traumas too.
Snow can’t erase anything.

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This poem was written for an a English literature test.