War on the Fields of Never

The hand that signed the paper felled a city     
– Dylan Thomas

.
ere’s the scratching
that bred discontent,
Hunger grasps, the plagues took hold the stench of never.
Iron is the threat that reigns
Bonds the man right.
Bureaucrats count the depth gets deeper
Faces etched in horror never blink.

A man’s faith lost within a blink,
Sleepless hours that lead to days of discontent,
The living get buried the dead unearth fields of never
The horror of what man can unleash still reigns.
Each moment in prayer in what we have done for right,
Digging muddy trenches that get deeper.

Returning horrors and distant screams dig deeper,
To stare down death we dare not blink.
Our love is now filled with discontent,
Clouds of choking red mist drift across muddied never,
The bureaucrats far behind still reign.
To brutally struggle with our fellow man, is this right?

Speeches over broken static, radio’s saying we are right.
The bodies of the lucky ones get deeper,
The bright flares at night force you to blink.
Hope of ending lost, now greeted with discontent,
The staring eyes of the dead litter the fields of never
Propaganda and lies still reign.

The blood red ink still demands a reign.
To live in everlasting fear has become a right,
Horror on the faces, lines and fear etch deeper,
Even when death takes you, dare not blink.
Your age matters no more, there is only discontent,
Thought of home and family lost on the fields of never.

The colours we knew have left the fields of never,
Hunger and never-ending desperation reigns.
Distant memories fading is not right,
Loss of one’s humanity only digs deeper.
New ones arrive and all they do is blink,
Soon they will be like us and join us in discontent.

Discontent runs through our thoughts, burrowing deeper.
Silence never reigns on the fields of never.
When this madness ends, then we have the right to blink.

* * * * *

Stephen Ryan writes short stories and poetry. A humorist, he draws on his rich and varied life experience – including a stint in Papua New Guinea during his time in the Australian Army. Often he writes about the Australian outback, basing his writing on the memorably offbeat larger than life characters that inhabit that remote part of the planet. Stephen has lived in Townsville, Australia for the past thirteen years. His other contributions to Snake-Oil Cure can be found here.

About these ads
Leave a comment

Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in:

WordPress.com Logo

You are commenting using your WordPress.com account. Log Out / Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out / Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out / Change )

Google+ photo

You are commenting using your Google+ account. Log Out / Change )

Connecting to %s

Follow

Get every new post delivered to your Inbox.

Join 774 other followers

%d bloggers like this: