War Hero

Three years 
Pulling corpses
For the Undertakers
Berkley Road
Four sharp sounds
On dull damp stone
And the trundle
Of the hearse
Humans fed 
And watered you
Then carted you off 
To the land of mud
Endless dull sounds
Over deep black mud
And the rumble
Of the guns
It wasn't so much of a change
Still dead men
But more
And it was wetter
Louder
And harder to pull
Bodies 
Messier
Than the ones embalmed
Dressed in their best
Pulled by you
Resplendent in black
Flanks of steel
Eyes of jet
But you floundered
In the ooze
Hooves plunged
And nostrils flared
Flanks of sweat
Eyes of fear
Such a change
Men dressed in brown
And red
Not preserved
Rotted
Or not yet dead
Not at peace 
But wracked with screams
They mouthed to their mothers
Far away
No man should see that
But you saw that
In the land of mud
And death
Strange, how the humans
Pulled you in 
To something
You didn't start
And didn't finish;
               Hit by a shell
              On your slow way back
              To the stables.