Soldiers Poem

Sitting in a bunker Waiting for the bomb Fierce like a Panther Im waiting for the tomb Riding on the horses With a gun and a saber An army with a million faces A land with no settler Homes on fire Cities on ruins Twelve guns for hire Fearful not of sins Layin gon the trenches Fearful like a child From bodies comes the stench And the figh is always wild He was always there Until the bullet struck him right Of no one left to spare The hammer dropped with might Now he sat alone Joined only by his fellow soldiers With a cold that reached the bone The tanks were as hards as boulders The night is filled with flashes And the planes fly over head And the trees explode like lashes Of armiesleft themselves to fend He ran across the forests With hands covered in blood Fighting hard on foxholes Atrocities for a plate of food Day break then comes An the trees fall against the steel Fighting with sticks and stones Fighting, for just a meal Of countries might and power Nor money or oil involved against Places, beautiful like a flower Were the fight is always dense Clearing all the buildings With rockets and grenades Justifying all the killings And in the hand, an Ace Of Spades Crushing sound, comes from afar and his legs he can feel no longer Thinking of his home, so very far Thoughts of his home, make him stronger Witnessing throughout the scope His first kill More pain than he could cope His innocence exists still The recoil then throws him to the ground all of a sudden, there is no sound In there his body shall be found And in his pocket, a poem, a Soldiers Poem