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Lost Soldier

by KikiliaK


War is democracy.
Was is dominancy.
War is politics.
War is power.
War is just plain stupid.

Children.
Boys.
Girls.
Sent out to the open world.
Vulnerable.
Exposed to danger.
Waiting to unite.
Waiting to fight.
Given no choice.
To their future.
To their lives and deaths.
Allowed no opinion.
Dead or alive.
On either side.

Exposed to pain.
Suffering.
Sickness.
Anger.
Death.
Hatred.
Injustice.
War.

Our loved ones are taken away.
Our loved ones aren't here to stay.
Our loved ones aren't coming back.
Fighting.
Killing.
Shooting.
Bombing.
Struggling to survive.
On either side.
Both sides hold guns.
Both sides wage war.
Both shoot.
Both kill.
Both are trying to survive.

Are we right?
Are we wrong to fight?
Do we have a choice?
Can we stop it?
Is it too late?

Either side, either enemy, either life.
Both sides are killing, hurting, surviving.
So which is right?
Both are still killing people.
Can't flee.
Or they'll catch me.
Must fight.
Must stay.
Must survive.
Must wage war.
Have no choice.
Must stay alive.
Kill or be killed.

Do I care about power?
Dominancy?
Pain?
Politics?
War?

I don't feel right.
With a messed up sight.
With a messed up right.
A gun in my hands.
Someone dead at my feet.

I don't want this blood on my hands.
What did they do to me?
What did I do to deserve this?
This killing.
All this blood.
All this death.
All this guilt.
Regret.
Pain.
Sin.

I don't want this blood on my hands.
My face.
Staining my skin.
Staining my mind.
Staining my life.
Staining my soul.
I don't know what I'm doing here anymore.
I don't know what's right.

My mind is messed up.
My heart isn't right.
I'm afraid to use my sight.
Gun in my hands.
Blood on my hands.
Al over me.
All over everyone.
All over around me.
Everywhere.
Bloody red.

War in my sight.
Cries in my ears.
Bombs and shots hurting my head.
Guns in my face.
Pointing at me.
Pointing at everyone.
'Til we're all dead.

Gun in my face.
Pointing at head.
Spark is alight.
Boom is my fright.
Bullet in my head.
Bullet out of my head.
Brains are blown up.
Blood spurts out like guts.
Boy has killed me.
Shock on his face.
Pain and guilt in his eyes.
Gun in his hands.
My blood staining his soul.
My body at his feet.

What has war brought us?
Power?
No.
Dominancy?
No.
Politics?
No.
Pain?
Yes.
Suffering?
Yes.
Sickness? Anger? Hatred? Confusion? Death?
Yes! Yes! Yes! Yes! Yes!
Peace?
No.
Not at all.

War has brought me here.
At a hospital.
A bullet in my head.
About to be dead.

War?
What good has it done us now?
Where has it gotten us?
Millions of undeserved deaths.
The fall of our world.
Crumbling at our feet.
Caused by our own demise.
Our own defeat.

My mind is messed up.
My heart isn't right.
Can't trust my sight.
Filled with fright.
Gun in my hands.
Hundreds, thousands of bodies at my feet.
Cries in my ears.
Death bringing me to tears.
Death is the only alive and living thing here.
Death is the only one that will survive.
Now we're all dead.

Now I see.
That this is all that war has brought me.
Nothing but sins.
And death.
Caused my war.
Caused by me.
Nothing but regret.
Pain.
Guilt.
Hatred.
And my own death.
My own damnation.
That is all that war has brought me.


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I like nonsense, it wakes up the brain cells. Fantasy is a necessary ingredient in living, it's a way of looking at life through the wrong end of a telescope. Which is what I do, and that enables you to laugh at life's realities.
— Dr. Seuss