| Thunder In The Ground |  |
| Cannons are bellowing from a ridge far away.
The battle lines are forming and there's little time to pray.
Musket balls are pelting like hailstones from the sky;
I'm so full of fear cause I don 't want to die.
From beyond yonder hill comes a terrifying sound,
It's the music of the buglers and there's thunder in the ground.
The fast-riding troopers have all drawn out their swords.
They 're shouting and screaming as they charge up the gorge.
It's hard to believe how many make it through;
As they're hacking and shooting at the boys dressed in blue.
Then come the soldier men who run upon their feet,
Every time I drop one, my heart skips a beat.
There's a storm on the ground made of death, dust and smoke.
My throat is so dry, I can 't help but choke.
The fury of the battle is bound to settle down,
When most of the fighters lie dead on the ground.
After dark, the stretcher-bearers are afraid to search around.
The wild hogs eat the wounded and I can 't stand the sound.
Come dawn, we dig ditches for all the brave, lifeless men.
Then quote words from our Bible praying heaven lets them in. | By Tom Zart
Copyright 2005
Listed April 24, 2007
Tom Zart's site |
It is illegal to use this poem without the author's permission.
~~ Send your comments and/or use permission request to Tom. ~~ |
