Havok descends through erupted skies
Put to rest beneath a sheet of ash
Wails of the dying turn to stillness of the dead
Sung to the pyres of an endless crematorium
Blood boiled to steam, red fog so inviting
Wander adrift, breathing ghosts of the trenches
Impartial devastation sweeps the horizons
Mother, child or soldier consumed no discrimination
Bodies piled skyward, a grim monument towers
A monolithic grave, its shadow blankets the decay
Blacker and blacker still growing.