On the Front Line

For the first time, I remembered my kids with pain, when the bullets on metals ping, as death was approaching with its sting. My enemies, they were determined, and so was I, three minutes was the time we had, to leave someone with no head. I fired one short, just to warm my barrel, for a cold one make a round stray, leaving one on the plain as a prey, with no hope but only words to pray. Standing with my Ak47, faith was my only fort, no time to chicken out, but to focus and employ my training, then I slowly aimed my machine, and yes, rounds went out marching, taking them down one at a time, but not all of them were wasted, just when I was ready to seat and relax, one of them wobbled up, damn I had to take up my gun again.