Horrors of the Somme. Picture courtesy of ivarfjeld.com It took him clean in the chest
this bullet through blood and vest
Knocking him back onto the mud
as the rain fell, mingled with blood
He lay chocking, staring upwards
as men all around ran forwards
Shouts and screams so far away
all going to their fates
A bomb goes off in the distance
as shrapnel hits others, no resistance
Back they fall, bloodied and torn
as he lies dying, lost and forlorn
Deafened now by that explosion loud
nothing can be heard, all far away sounds
Alone and dying on a lonely field
as all fades, he wonders if it’s really real?
And then he’s gone, trampled in the mud
lost in boots and others blood
Until only are left but broken bones
and others dying on a field alone
I'm a thinker, listener, a "question's pretty much everything" type of person. A seeker of knowledge, always restless, yet seeks the calm in life.
I love writing in all forms and am in the process of completing a number of ongoing projects. I love the craft of writing and the possibilities it holds. A magic carpet through the mind. I love pretty much all creative arts, music, film and theatre the leading ones.
Born in Hertfordshire in England, my family Irish, Welsh and English, I currently reside in Edinburgh, in Scotland. I'm drawn to coastal and mountain regions where I like to go to think and draw inspiration from. Ireland is a place that's dear to me, and I try to get back to see family and friends as much as possible.
My interests are wide and broad, too many to mention here, but history, archaeology, criminology, music and film are just some of those things I love.
I hope you enjoy my ramblings on here as that's what they are really. I'll let my fingers do the ''talking...''
View all posts by Darren Greenidge
Caliburnus Rises 