Uncomforable
Victories phyrric
Position is calm
Until it isn’t
When bearings fly
By automatic fire
Running through mud
And plastic
With boots and
Cleet
It’s tense and
Bleak
Surrounded
With no retreat
Then silence
Falls
Muscles relax
And we speedload
What time we have
We can’t be sure
Waiting or
Flanking
Crouched and
Listening
For a footstep
By the opposition
Quietly
Uncomfortably
Our gear is
Heavy
Movement is
Slow
Right now it’s
Still
And tense
Covered yet clear
Our position is calm
But it won’t be
That way
For very long
Consume Reality! 