I was reading a book on the Hurtgen forest campaign ("Hell in the Hurtgen Forest" by Rush) when I wrote this. I was trying to get the general feel of hopelessness, inevitability, despair that I got while reading, and realizing that there was not going to be any respite, no rest area, nothing to look forward to except more death and madness. HURTGENWALD Darkness crashes slowly down bringing blindness all around, smothering all in its reach, the haughty, soon respect shall teach. Angry stand the trees above, denied the peace they crave, they love. Red-hot screams, with bile yell as wooden shards seek to impale those, frightened, huddled far below who shiver for awaited blow in holes scratched from unyielding earth as voices scream their ragged dearth upon the heights, to crash and rend invaders in this sacred glen. Death advances in the murk, in fetid pools of darkness lurks, uncaring what the soul may wear it falls upon to rend and tear or reaches out from far away, impartial, heartless, spare or slay. Within their foxholes, quivering, they hopeless dread what dawn shall bring. The Order comes, it shan’t be long, their fates are sealed: oh, fear the dawn! -jkl 9/16/2003
