The Horrors of War

(NB The character in this poem does not belong to any country but is generic.) _______________________________________________________________ The sirens howl. I can smell the fear I sow in the city. My super gun can tear Through buildings Where innocent people Lie huddled in despair. I do not gloat. My heart is ice. I have a job to do. I feel all powerful like a god. I lie flat on the roof High on a building. The sun is high, Scorching unrelenting, blinding like a furnace grilling sweat out of me. Yet I lie still And watch the streets For the hated enemy. He'll come. He never learns. He too thinks he's like a god. One of us may be dead tonight. Or both! Who knows who? Far away I see the hill tops, where eagles dare to fly. Below the happy pastures, the luscious grasses tall and fine. Sheep graze, and women watch. I feel the desires of old. I wake to the present. I know my job. Who can beat me? They will not see me, Nor flee from me, They'll die at my hand. For I fight legitimacy.