by Cauis Ramsden-Board

INN O CENT

By Cauis Ramsden-Board

New sentry planted, he sits and watches, in silence and in rain he will stay there . Holy cross keeps the sins of war at bay, eyes locked onto last place enemy stood, helmet covers the innocent boy here . Prone, alone, allies have trusted in the mind, The solitary emptiness that feeds . Feeds his home and country, and untouched dirt will soon soak up that red colour of life . Still, he stayed prone, and was watched as he watched . No God looked upon his duality, but instead the black eyes of Death saw him . Teeth and claws and dark fur hid partially Just outside the iron circle of the scope . The sentry knew that Death was seeing him . The home of Death itself was cold and dark, a maze known not by mortal men like him . Yet the boy stayed loyal, if not to God Then to the word superior he knew . Parade lines likened to a line of pews . No harbour for thoughts in that dull prison, Which once knew love and warm embrace so soft . As Death prepared to snuff, the scope stayed still, Upon the point that foe had once shot from . The sentry’s breaths failed to quicken then . Death leaped into the watcher’s line of sight, And saw straight through the young man’s rough attire . His focus broken; a shot rang out that Sliced the sad silence of the No Man’s Land . His heart stopped as Death disappeared from view . His skin was cold, as was the air around The flesh that hung from young yet brittle bone . His sculpted eyes were shut tight as if he Planned not to open them until the end . He blinked and saw no purge of innocence . No enemy met him under the sky, The blackness hiding him from God’s white eyes . Black metal stayed put . Her majestic sight Forcing him to cooperate or die . The rabbit returned back to its burrow .

Image: Keya Desai