War

The Banging of the Guns,
The Moaning of the people,
The bare and bracken land,
Nothing taller then a steeple.

The sad and gloomy faces,
The enemy across the lines,
The shivering of the men,
The heart that truly pines.

The gasses in the air,
From the bombs that hit the ground,
The hatred between camps,
The countries that are bound.

The scary frozen fields,
Whose end will never come,
The battle that broke out,
Of which they called the Somme.