That soldier now lays on the ground,
In your ears, a ringing sound,
His crimson blood now stains the land,
The gun that killed him, in your hand,
A life that was once bathed in light,
Is now blackened by the night,
Eighteen years and just of age,
He's pulled into this violent rage,
The rain, it falls upon your head,
The sky, it's weeping for the dead,
All that's good, it does not last,
Innocence is in the past,
For your lives, yes, you both fought,
"No emotions," you were taught,
Yes, you were the last to stand,
But now, his blood is on your hands...
A/N: I wrote it from the other soldier's point of view, rather than the dead soldier. I think that it's important to realize that while many are killed everyday, those soldiers also have to deal with the guilt of taking another life. Even though the situation is "Kill or be killed" the guilt is still there, so keep that in mind :D We are so lucky to be alive, although often it slips our mind.
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