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a young man with tounge lashed and lunch packed/
heading to a regiment, sprung on one flag/
swearin to fight till his own lungs crack/
preparin for life cuz he won't come back/
attached to the loud sound of the drum tap/
the gun blasts, clouds of smoke that leave the sun masked/
amidst brothers in uniform, all stung fast/
by storms and swarms of bees and ideals unmasked/
arrives and unpacks supplies in a region with bee hives knats and flies/
and a squad full of men, juss like him with wrath disguised/
anger and pride all hatched by false facts and lies/
enemies branded traiters, allies a band of saviours/
both fightin mercillisly cuz one man demands invasions/
so he fights bretheren from the same land and nation/
risks his life in a civil war for minimum standerd payments/
can't sleep or eat, his sorroundings are exploding bombs/
corrosion on his brain, the devotion gone/
an ocean of morbid pain, others become insane/
at first there was a surplus of ambition, pride and confidence/
now its lost as once was his common sense/
but durin the war his senses are back with a senseless impact/
in fact he wishes his senses weren't left and intact/
if they didnt work he would still feel strangely blessed/
cuz his senses cause him to smell and see his friends mangled flesh/
fifty years later he still fights with painful strains for breath/
in the place for death facing gravestones with names of leaders deceased/
sharpness of his senses have long left, his sight and hearing is weak/
meters and feet away from the burial ground his fear is increased/
on his knees, finds his friend's tombstone, squints, sees it and weeps/
it reads: "Another youth seized under the hypocritical concept of a war for freedom and peace"...

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