this is war

Guns firing above his head,
Eyes glance down to his left,
Partner gone and his best friend died.
His heart wants to stay and mourn,
His head tells him to ‘move on soldier!’
One last look, his partners’ eyes stare blankly,
He remembers the last words he said,
‘I miss my girl, tell her that will you?’

Blood runs thick on the sand,
It will never be free of the sins again,
The horror the sun saw that day,
Can never be undone,
Thousands dead, millions so hurt,
Many, many more lost someone they loved.

No one from yesterday has survived to live today,
Only one, he is alone, his rank so low,
If he returns, he’ll be a hero, until then, he is forgotten,
Lost in the countless bodies of innocent deaths,
His finger on the trigger, scared now, afraid,
A child, no more than five, runs in front of him,
Her eyes streaming, she is an orphan, a loner,
The one and only survivor of her family.

His finger slips.

The bullet races through the air, but he was scared.

He missed.

It missed her by few centimetres,
Made his heart break to see the fear in her eyes,
As she turned to look at him, her body gave out,
She fell, so quietly, and was now so pale she,
Could be mistaken for being dead,
He picked her up, light as a feather, and carried her,
All the way back to the camp, but he was the only survivor.

They would die that night,
Both together.

His own country,
Killed him and this child,
No more than five.

Hi died for his country.

No more.

No less.