I'm not a soldier, I am a monster. As I stand here in the cold looking at these people, I wonder what it would be like to see each and every person covered in red. I shift the weight of my gun in my hands, wanting to use it. I bet it would look beautiful.
I'm not a soldier, I am a monster. As useless, weak children and adults burn in an angry fire, I relish in the smell. I imagine the angry fire licking their skin blistering it, soon it turns black and hard as they burn to death. I love the blood curdling screaming you can barely hear over the roar of the flames.
I'm not a soldier, I am a monster. It fascinates me as I see skin wrapped tightly over bones walking, working. They look as fragile as a crystal cup yet we continue to beat them. They cry and ask 'God why?'
I'm not a soldier, I am a monster. My bloodlust takes over as I pull the trigger and blood gushes out a hole in a child's head. I watch as it travels down onto the brown dirt staining it red. Two more monsters come forwards to drag the dead away, blood trailing after it.
I'm not a soldier, I am a monster. I watch these things happen everyday. I am a monster as I murder the broken with a smile.
I'm a monster, no longer a soldier. When I chose to murder my nation. Women and children burn and die by a monster's hand. A heart turned black, no way to change it or make it go back. A chest full of hurt and a body full of scars.
No longer a soldier, just a monster. I no longer have to watch the sufferings. No longer do i have to hear the screams. I no longer have to smell the black smoke. No longer i have to touch rotting skin or heavy metal. I no longer have to taste copper.
Just a monster, not a soldier. As I lay here in a puddle of blood. Lights fading, exhaustion growing. I'll finally be free from the sufferings and pain as I wait sleep in eternal slumber. Breathing slowing while waiting to plummet into Hell. I'll be free from the death but my sins will always stay.
If anyone has any suggestions for me to write, id gladly appreciate it.