The skies rain shells of pain,
Cannons sound in the distant background;
I'm not ready to come out of this protected but lonesome shelter,
Everytime I make my step I decide to turn around.
I peek out of this hole,
Seeing bullets richochet off the soldiers wearing thick denim;
I'm scared, we're outnumbered,
I could be the next one dead after him.
This trench stinks,
It's so uncomfortable;
There must be something out there,
I cock my gun and dig up my courage,
I tell my comrade I'm ready;
He pants briskly,
He says it's not going to be easy.
The whistle sounds,
Many charged out of their holes,
I looked back;
Seeing those hiding - still unsure of their souls.
I glance over the border,
I saw people - my family, classmates and few of my friends;
They are firing at us,
They want this to end.
I arm my weapons;
I try to pull the trigger,
But something tells me - there are better reasons.
Observing my companions,
No one was shooting;
We are slowly crossing the barrier,
With many of us dying.
Something struck my head,
It wasn't a bullet;
It was a thought,
That deserved great merit.
Our enemies are under oath,
From a panicking authority;
We see our friends, family and those we love obey blindly,
But I know I still love all of them - yes indeed.