The decimation of the 47th Cuban / FAPLA Brigade (cavatina)

That night thunder flash after thunder flash
roared blood red,
I could smell scorched flesh, saw the havoc
of the burnt dead,
while the armoured car's gun hammered;
Cubans had fled,
left their pristine battle tanks to run away,
while we fought through the night into the day.

poem by Gert Strydom
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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