This is an edited and improved version of 'O Death'
I can see him on the horizon,
striding through the fray.
Beckoning me over,
calling for my end of days.
He's hooded and clad in black,
now we're face to face.
His hand is cold and now is mine,
as i slip further into his embrace.
He puts his hands over my ears,
the spitfire's engine just a drone.
That's when i realised -
i wasn't returning home.
His shadow is cast upon the land,
but he takes away the pain.
He takes my body and lifts me up,
from the ground where my blood stains.
As i watch from heaven,
to the hell below.
The war to end all wars was their last excuse,
i watch the poppies grow.
He found me, venni, vetti, vecci.
*venni - He came
vetti - he saw
vecci - he conquered
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WW1+WW2 Poetry
PoesíaHere are some poems and monologues that i have written, inspired by a trip to Belgium and France.
