Amidst the battlefield, I don my marching boots
Grabbing my gun, sweating bullets, and staring daggers at the enemy
I make new holes in their suits
The nature of war is something we all agree
In the middle of the night, I hear footsteps outside my tent
I peek outside to take a look while having my guts and wits at my side
An attack that was never meant
That night, my brothers-in-arms died
A clash of ideals, a battlefield filled with brawn
I fight on no side, protecting only my hide
I will avenge my fallen friend, blood shall run until dawn
That day, even the stones cried
He who makes a beast out of himself gets rid of the pain of being a man
Armed to the teeth, I let loose a rain of gunpowder
Killing friend and foe alike, corpses form a caravan
I only hear the bullets getting louder
A vast plain, empty
The smell of iron and napalm in the morning
Hindsight is always twenty-twenty
I was dubbed "Soldierhead" by the souls I was mourning
YOU ARE READING
Memory Fragments
FantasyWARNING: CONTAINS VERY EXPLICIT CONTENT. Sooner or later, we all crumble beneath our fears. It's up to us to recall what makes us human and stand strong against adversity. Memories, shattered and scattered throughout our lives, come to us one by one.
