Ann-Marie Spittle

NIGHT RAIDS

The whining rise awakens us from dreams of better times
Zombies in RAF uniforms follow the dimming light to outside
Where the dark leviathans of the empirical kingdom lie in wait
Their charioteers take their seat and gee up their horses
While engineering creatures run about caressing and checking its skin
The beast awakes and we are almost left behind in its wake
Hard to run in boots that have been laden with the blood of many battles
But we are spurred on, and our heels take Mercurial flight
The reader of the stars tells the charioteer our course and we are away
Treading the light fantastic of the sombre darkness

A great water masses below and we know the battle will soon begin in earnest
Now as we approach the torched citadel of the Germanic races
We make our peace with whichever power rules our life
And hope that we die a good death, if we have to
The boy shows his fear as he mutters unintelligible fears
But soon he is calm, for he has trained for this moment
The torches appear and the Angel of Death takes his place
And awaits the charioteer’s word
And reigns fire on the once walled city below
The dim lights flare and the beast is awakened
Eating streets as it gains in hunger

We sigh knowing our job is done
Then the leviathan lurches and bucks
Fiery retaliation for our deeds fly into the air
We spur on the beast that has taken us so far
Hoping its love for us will get us home

And there is the land of our forefathers
And we hear the call of the breeze
And we are safe and back in the arms of our comrades
And we are happy and gay
And we forget our occision as if it was a mere phantasm

Ann-Marie Spittle: Night Raids

IWVPA Double Tap Award for War Poetry: April 9, 2005
Awarded: April 9, 2005

Submitted for the April 2005 IWVPA Club Theme Project, “Occision