Only One Way Out
There’s nothing here anymore. No men, no trees, no life, just empty shells walking towards their death. Fate has abandoned us, or maybe we were meant to be pawns in a war bigger than us all along. The tales we were told revealed themselves to be nothing but lies, as we discovered that there is no honour in death. They told us it was right, but no one kills their way to heaven.
It feels like we’re one and the same, not even soldiers anymore but a single mass moving, breathing and dying as one. We would all tell you the same thing : the world tastes of blood and smells of smoke, and in our dilated pupils you could see the battlefield, forever burnt on our retinas. The thunder of machine guns will never stop ringing in our ears, and the air we exhale will only ever come out of corrupted lungs.
My mind now feels like the battlefield, a chaos-dominated place where no man should ever go. There used to be fear, but now I’m just numb, watching my brothers fall and simply thinking : « when is it my turn ? When do I get to be free from this hell ? ». My thoughts became a prison, and I know now that the keys to escape are in the barrel of a gun.
I can still breathe, see, and shout ; but I know there’s only one way out.
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This was an assignement in English Literature, and our teacher insisted that we should post our poems here. I quite like it, so I'm happy to share it.