The trench contains the dead 

Buried before they died 

Vacant eyes reveal the distant crosses 

Their names are immortalised in Hell

I was buried too but still breathe 

The chilled dark but metallic air 

The blood of many others has stained

 My heavy coat that hibernates no hope

It is snowing now and there are no more screaming shells 

There is an eerie silence that covers the death 

I cannot hear the cannons or the mad manic guns 

The moon is high and I am surrounded by many shrouds