Wallowing in War

What else can a man do?’ in low spirits shattered souls The front is a cage madness and despair dead lie unburied We are deadened by the strain sleep hangs on my eyelids suspense of uncertainty The nights become quiet unbearable makes my heart pause in its beating Days go by fills us with nausea we are gradually benumbed If we don’t destroy them, they destroy us everlasting impossible meaningless words fairly quiet ‘What else can a man do?’