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Creative Writing from the Frivolous Quills
Last Breaths
By Sarah Davie.
Shallow breathing catching in their chests,
Praying to God they fight at their best
Those with families wishing to see them again
But unsure if they will or when.
The battle cry bellowed out as a threatening cheer
As evident sobs and thudding hearts symbolised the fear.
The inhalation of blood and sweat rotted the brain
As wracked screams echoed around unable to show the pain,
The separate sides surging towards certain death
Each terrified member gasping for their last breaths.
Metal clashing with metal
Metal slicing through flesh
Every slice was fatal
As they fought for their last breath.
Palm Sunday
By Su Harrison.
They brought him palms
They brought him palms to line his way
So they said.
We marched in silence.
Tacit fear stills the tongue,
Numbs the brain.
One thought endures:
Today could be your last.
Crawl under a hedge
Fight the cold,
Succumb to steel, not nature.
Wake to a haunted dawn,
Arise to a battlefield lined with Englishmen.
There are no palms in Yorkshire.