AN: This poem is not written by a main character but a simple unknown reflecting upon the cruelty of war.
My Enemy
By an unknown Shinobi
Rivers running thick with blood
Bones stabbing feet beneath the mud
This is the thing that I see
Simply wondering how did this come to be?
Who was once my enemy is now my friend?
Then why can I feel no sorrow for them?
I look upon my enemy who is made from death
For he has no life, no spirit, no breath
With one purpose only intent to kill
Never seeming to meet the quota's fill
One by one I see allies fall
And yet, I feel nothing. Nothing at all
Screams of pain and anguish pierce the sky
Still, not a single tear shed not once do I cry
Yes, I understand the code of the Shinobi
How we dare not show our emotions freely
But what does it mean when I cannot feel?
Sighing upon the blood-soaked ground I kneel
Taking a Kunai in my hand I shed my vest
I stabbed myself in my chest.
When this war is over and they ask what has become of me
Tell them I destroyed myself, for I had become the enemy