The war was over he got away
Most of the others had died one day
Part of those who did survive
His mind was empty and barely alive
He walked alone this twisting track
Could not look forward he just looked back
In mist and fog in poring rain
No dreams no more just lasting pain
He was craving for a scrap to eat
Just some crumbs he would gladly great
Was longing to be warm and dry
Uttering a sad and downcast sigh
Been drifting on for countless days
Saw no way out from this hideous maze
And his brain echoed the blows
Of the battel's bomb shells and again he froze
Survived the war but not alive
A living dead aged twenty-five
The war was over he got away
Now he wished in his grave he’d lay…