A thin streak of tears washed a line of ash and soot off his face exposing his real skin
The stench of blood, burnt flesh and death pinned him down to the bitter reality
He pushed and crawled and dragged himself away from the pile of lifeless soldiers
The gunshots and cries of human souls filled the air and his heart like a bitter scar
Time flew with the poor souls, a feast awaiting Death
The battle came to an end, they have won, they announced
He walked away with guilt and remorse, he had lost the count of the souls he had doused
He walked away, his own soul long lost by the horrors he had caused and endured
He walked away with questions that will never be answered; Where is peace? Where is humanity?
He walked away with a wish that will never be fulfilled; a world that doesn’t know war.