Frozen in Trenches (Christmas Truce) - 1914

Winter in trenches

Becomes unbearable

Cold claws of death

Entwined my heart

Like snow-white marble

Our bodies are frozen

Dead fingers squeeze rifles and knifes

My dead comrade

Lies a few hundred yards from me

Snow covered his new uniform

And his blood becomes white too

Soldiers of my regiment

Drop their weapon and go out of the trenches

Their faltering few steps

To white rest and enemies

On the noman’s land

They hugged and singed

And yet with neither rage no hate

Cause its Christmas eve

But I’m obliged to kill

I take the bayonet

And run across the field

Young German reaches out to me

I hit him in the throat

Again again and again

Because there is no fucking Christmas truce