By: Gladys (School of Computer Science)
Competition Year: 2017
Votes (1) | Comments (0)
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Hold the hand of a soldier dying
Whether he be a Hun or from your own land coming

Through his pangs of loss and separation
In lieu of peaceful closeness he's only got evasion
From beholding his beloved before his eyes close

Her touch so elusive he pines for the most
As he lay unconvinced or perhaps forced
To have treaded his nation's course
By sheer dictate of a rule gone sore

An ideology gone mad
Fed by greed and retribution
Seeing one's fellowman
Not by common lot nor communion

Behold the dying Hun
No different from everyone
Neither ally, axis, neutral, all

He, too, loves to hold his lady love by the hand
A final testament to unstifled love
Breaking barriers as he lay felled
By war and senseless conflicts in the grove

That only unbounded love
Contained by as much as his heart can
- even its sinews are structured as that of every man -
Can traverse and cross amidst the disarray
Those broken bodies, unbreakable souls,
Lying by the haul.

Come now, Nurse, mother, wife, daughter, sister,
See in him a father, husband, son and brother.

[*Inspired by a scene from Brittain's Testament of Youth where she served as British volunteer nurse in WWI and tended to a dying German soldier who calls for his fiancee, after she herself lost her fiance in the trenches.]
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