There are cries and prayers in foxholes
To gods
That do not listen
Because
They are not there
In the center of all
Men about to
Die
There burns an ember of
Fear
Fear in the
Knowledge that this
Life
Is all
And once it passes
There is no more
In foxholes,
Where men cry out to
Gods that do not listen
Because
They are not there,
The sound of death
Is feared
Because
Once it is
Heard,
All men in foxholes know,
Inside,
There are no more
Sounds left
To be heard
All men in foxholes
Know and fear
This truth:
The end
Is really,
The end
The Arm Chair Pontificator 
Breathtaking…
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Thank you greatly.
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A great poem my good man.
The sound of death is the final cry and after all is silent.
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Much appreciated. Thanks.
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A worthy poem of truth and mortality.
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Thanks again.
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When Army Spec. Jeremy Hall was nearly killed in an attack on his Humvee, he was asked, “Do you believe in Jesus now?” He replied, “No, but I believe in ballistic armor.”
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Great stuff. Though I hear it is quite expensive, too expensive, in fact, to allow every soldier to wear it and/or every vehicle to be equipped with it. Thus, a soldier’s life is reduced to a cost/benefit ratio. Ah, war! How I love thee!!! Thing is, if there were theists in foxholes, convinced a blissful life awaited them in the next world, foxholes would be pretty happy places to be in. All the blood and brain matter spewed around them would be but decorations covering the prettiest xmas tree ever. For in that hole of smelly death, the theists would KNOW they were about to be thrust into the arms of their loving lord for a joy-filled life in heaven. Though I’ve never experienced fighting in a war, I seriously doubt foxholes are anything at all like this. Thus, there are no theists in foxholes. There are only terrified soldiers begging not to die and praying to a god they know isn’t listening to them because if he were, and if he really did exist, they know he never would have put them in the foxhole to begin with.
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