March Of Death Poem by Kevin Patrick II

The Sun is rising in the East
To be your funeral drum
The Jap guards bark for you to walk
Or else you will be done
Your body slips into a daze
With every shrinking breath
The guards taunt you with bayonets
And promise you slow death


and 80 000 souls were doomed
To walk six days of hell
Starving as dogs with scraps of rice
Worn down in broken shells
and thirst became an endless curse
As water became gold
Their bodies parched and dry as bone
Then heard the bells were told


They walked as bare as skeletons
Each footstep marked by dread
No rest to breathe or they would meet
A fatal kiss of led
Then roads became a field of graves
Unending to the eye
Broken, battered, gored and splattered
Where all the lost boys died



And day by day the blood sport grew
As guards made death a game
They tied their necks to motorcars
And dragged them without shame
Or sat them in a burning sun
Until their bodies caved
Then buried them alive for fun
Screaming inside their graves


The rot of life stinks to the flesh
Burned by the rising sun
10000 lost and more soon fell
Where only death was won
Inside the jungle of green hell
Murder became a blight
And men marched as the reapers troupe
Suffering his Delight



And so they marched and so they died
broken as toy soldiers