To Wage A War
(The siege of Good Hope as told by the drummer, Ezekiel Mann; the last survivor of the Good Hope Volunteers)
The distant morning rehearsed its arrival
With the glare off the fire that shown in the distance.
Sherman's boys were razing the God-given earth
And routing the Grays of Atlanta's resistance.
The men of Good Hope took up arms in defense,
Drawing lines; digging in for the slaughter ahead.
Union Blues descending like vultures to feed
On the helpless and maimed, on the weak and the dead.
Smoke filled night,
A changing wind,
Shapes the lives
Of desperate men.
Their cannons from Atlanta arrived in the night.
Standing in omnipotent grandeur, they bellowed
In carnivorous ecstasy with the shrieks
Of the smitten and the wounded. How the blood flowed!
My bleeding and beating hands played the march
That led the seditious rabble to their defeat.
My ears, cursed and abhorred, stung with the dying screams
Calling for mothers, the Father and Paraclete.
Cannon flight,
That wicked wind,
Shakes the lives
Of desperate men.
Desolation arose in the light of day.
The scene to be seen was painted in carnage red.
Johnny lay in the ditches and strewn about.
The town, cut down to rubble, the batteries bled.
The smoke convened in a frivolous descent
Over the battlefield and its wages of war.
Casualties became conundrums; the who's whom,
And the Yankees marched onward, to the sea, for more.
Cannon flight,
That hungry wind,
Takes the lives
Of desperate men.
Legion
(5AUG92)