The Edge of Hell

The Edge of Hell

Dante’s Inferno had nothing on this.
As I stood at the Edge of Hell.
Thousands had died,
Their widows had cried
For a few miles of mud and disaster.
But the rain still poured down.
The world had turned brown,
And I was drowning in slow flowing mud.

Mud that was stained
By the blood of the dead,
And textured by pieces of cloth.
A bomb had gone off.
Turned our trench to a trough.
All dead and unrecognisable.
And still it poured down.
It flooded the ground.

Washing away all the debris.
But stuck in the mud
Thick glutinous mud.
Was Davy. My best mate,
Young Davy.
He looked back at me
With a smile on his face,
But it could have been a grimace.

He’s happy now. I thought to myself.
In God’s good embrace.
In a much better place,
Than here.
I’m still stuck in the mud,
And soaked by the flood
Of the rain that continued to fall,
As I wait for the whistle,
That 6am whistle,
That sends us over the top.

“Will I hear it?” I thought.
Through the bombs and the noise
Of the battle being fought around me.
Young Davy still stared.
And in truth I was scared.
Would I be joining him soon.
Then the whistle, it blew.
It was our turn to go.

Over the top into battle.
Kill or be killed.
As the coffins get filled.
Lines of white crosses appear.
And still the rain falls
On widows in shawls
Who’s tears blind the sight
Of their men in the fight
Not knowing the reason why.

But we slithered in mud
Made red by the blood
Of the soldiers who’d gone on before.
Then I felt a punch.
A dull vicious punch,
But I didn’t feel any pain.
I was now lying down,
Looking up from the ground.

It was soft and warm underneath.
No rain, No pain.
And the sun was so bright.
How strange?
The noise had all gone.
Then I glanced left and right.
Soldiers still running to fight.

In silence I watched.
As everything stopped.
No noise. Just peace and quiet.
Then Davy came over to help me get up.
“Hello Davy” I said,
“I thought you were dead!”
“I am Mate, and so are you.”