Dust
Explosions
Bullets
Tanks
Blood
Gore

I stand in it all
knowing it's the end.
It's all just like
the combat prep again.

I hear a scream
as my friend lies dieing.
I remember one thing
there is no crying.

Someone shoots at me
so I shoot back.
My bullet flies
and makes his skull crack.

A bullet comes
and picks me off.
Just like the rest
as a bomb goes off.

My body lies dead
but my spirit alive.
I watch the war
from above skys.

Death itself is in the air
while people kill
without a care.

Our men shoot
protecting with pride.
Remembering a quote

When the rich wage war
It's the poor who die