R e d.D a w n
The flag is raised into the sky,
A new day dawns, a day to die.
I'm chilled although the air is hot,
I lay awake although I'm not.
We trudge through briar, thorn and field,
For in the fight we dare not yield.
I long for comfort, soft pressed sheets.
Yet amongst the corpses we must sleep.
Am I a killer, as I fight
For what I feel, I hold as right?
My brothers left, and that relief
Is just enough to stave the grief.
My friends of treason were condemned
And so therefore have met their end.
The weapon raised, my stance prepared,
Thought all I feel inside is fear.
The battle rages, copper red,
The ground is many soldiers bed.
I'm chilled although the air is hot,
I look alive although I'm not.
SAINW. Again. Michelangelo's thoughts.
