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Battered bricks in broken streets of chaos and destruction
  All that's left is billowing smoke from bomb blasted buildings
The sky is a different color now, the smell is of death
  My team huddled against these ramshackle walls, holding our breath
Knowing we're all in marked territory within the enemies den
  The Enemy, not even sure if that's them for it may be us
But no matter we are just carrying out our orders...For what?
  To impose our philosophies and way of life, is that even right?
So many thoughts we shouldn't think for it's our job to just fight
  Footsteps echo as they pound the pavement, scoping up right then left
One, two, three, the count of the enemy trigger finger sets
  Safety off moving silently into shooting position, breathe in
All targets backs are a clear shot, remember these are bad men
  Sweat frozen on hot sweaty cheeks as cold ice fills my veins
Tap, tap, tap three more rebels deceased totaling 10 for the day
  Bile fills my throat then erupts out of my mouth, death is its taste
A sudden chill the feeling of being watched from somewhere somehow
  Knowing just seconds before the bullet enters and splatters my brain
Just another marked man in this territory where we all die the same  



   Written for poetry contest "This or That, Vol. 28" 10/19/2024
       Hosted by: Edward Ibeh         Title: In Marked Territory

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