Adrenaline The
Tracer lit the night.
While the screams of the dying
Were drowned out,
By the exploding shells.
No longer cold or wet.
No thoughts of hunger.
Just a surge, a rush.
The,
Body’d ......
Come alive.
Giajl © Jim Love
It is said that war is made with long periods of boredom interspersed with frantic bursts of activity. It is.