Pompous

I am content Behind enemy lines, they do not see me The choking fog Swirls Tightening around me Unable to escape The bitter air is choking hot, though my breath Shimmers White in the night He comes, I brace myself, Tense He runs, unaware I am here Helpless; Powerless; Inept He staggers I am content

By: Kyla Corelli Remembrance Day poem