The Senses

I can see,

A light,

So bright,

That it blinds the sea.

I can see them kneel,

To the royal scenery,

And around the corner,

Is a scene with a seal.

I can feel,

A blast, 

Coming from a mast,

Of a comrade’s steal.

I can feel their presence,

Among the land,

Among the crowd,

Waiting for the crumbling fence.

I can taste,

The blood,

Of a sud,

From the gaping mouth of a mace.

I can taste a sample,

Laid upon my hand,

From the unknown man,

With a staple.

I can smell,

The stench of the fallen,

Shot down in the common,

Flowing into the Shell.

I can smell the hoard,

Breaking the bell,

Ripping in synch,

Flopping on the board.

I can hear,

The cut of a knife,

Slicing through the life,

Of a weary old fear.

I can hear a sound,

Pleasant as it is,

It comes from the band,

Of criminals from the hound.