The horror, the brutality
eats away at my heart until I no longer
see the need to go on.

I bite my lip,
holding in the
rage,
the remorce
the screams
I want the world to hear.
but they won’t.

What are we here for?
Might there be a purpose that is more?
Maybe only time can tell the true meanings of our lives; it doesn’t lie.
That’s the power behind our efforts that continue till we die.

Life to all, the empty promise
I’ve found something new
Take your script and watch it slip through
Cracks so obvious

And we still fight in vain
Who’s the one that wins?
No one’s truly saved
No room left to swim
Life to all, the empty promise

They say he could see a full mile on the horizon.
They say that he could smell the seas from the plain.
I’ve heard he could dance to the rhythm of a heartbeat,
And visualize true beauty in the rain.

Rain floods the trenches on a cold darkened night,
And the battle drags on. How long must they fight?
Rats grow fat as they feast on the dead.
The constant shell impacts get to the head.
You keep your bayonet close, and your eye on no-man’s-land,

Minor fissures,
Just hairline cracks,
Spread slowly
At first,
Fine lines on a
Smooth surface;
Creeping across a
Marble plain,
Barely making
A sound, but
Marking - scarring
- All the same.
See here, where