It was supposed
to be different.
The eyes
of young men had pointed
Forward,
To the
glory of the Motherland’s name.
It was
supposed to be different.
A new
adventure awaited;
Proud
mothers sent off their sons
Like the
women of Sparta.
They
expected a short victory
And praise
to raise into the skies.
But they didn't expect this.
Blood
mixed with mud was the mattress
That young
boys who sold out their youth
To fight
on the front lines. They didn't know
The dreams
of heroism would be replaced
With
lice-infested rats who cuddle
Next to
the warmth of their bodies at night.
Rockets of
metal screamed endlessly;
Shrills of
shrapnel flew over the heads
Like songs
meant to keep them from their sleep.
A brother raised
his hand to be rescued
By the
racing bullets that would mar his being.
The air thick with sweat profusely panting
As the
heart attempts to clear the lungs
Of treacherous gas snuffed into the tunnels.
Of treacherous gas snuffed into the tunnels.
Eyes
forward, watered, vision dimming.
Everything
becomes black.
A misty
fire burns the insides of the strong;
Hell is in
sight of the land that no man can cross -
Or is sure
near there. Friends and brothers lay
down
In an
eternal slumber that came too soon.
So great a
loss that perhaps the war could be the end
To all
wars? For what honor can we bring from this
age?
The
imaginations of a pride for one’s country
Has
faltered into the nightmares that make men grown lie awake at night.
Hope for
torment to end, peace must come
Because it
was supposed to be different.
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