Is a win, really a win?
Swords clashing.
Horrifying,
dreadful,
screams shouting.
And in the end I realized,
as I walk through the mounds of corpses,
what I've just done.
Killing thousands,
and for what?
Because I was ordered to?
Because my superiors said they were the enemies?
Innocent kids.
Laughing,
sin free, children for heaven's sake!
Were brutally killed! Slaughter!
They haven't done anything, but give the world a new hope for the future.
Face it,
I was a killing machine,
a ruthless murderer.
As the pungent smell of blood surrounds me,
I could feel,
the infuriating rage rushing through my veins.
I could hear,
my heavy hearted thumps, beat in my ear.
This isn't the fear of what will become of me after my death but,
it's the fear of what the future would become.
People only kill because another person killed someone they knew.
The forever, going cycle,
of murder and death.
When will this blood ritual truly stop?