Like an engine, driving the shafts in an armoured car,
There are little hearts, powering the soldiers at war.
Listen to the bullets fly above your head,
As the civilians mourn the dead.

Duck down in your trenches for you might get shot,
As you watch the piles of lifeless bodies rot.
When you see a dense cloud of smoke coming,
Pull out your mask quickly, or you’d already be suffocating.

Have your weapon always ready,
And as you aim, keep your hands steady.
You want to make sure every shot counts,
and As minutes pass, the tension mounts.

On the whistle, run out of your tunnel,
And make a run for it, pointing the barrel-
Towards the enemy, or the young men with little hearts,
Too fragile to handle the terror of fire any war starts.

A boy, with a tangled mind,
A boy, with just his purpose to find.
A man, with no emotion,
A man, who just wants promotion.
An elderly, whose face has turned grim,
An elderly, with no life left in him.


My body feels empty,
And my soul is almost dried out.
My heart, engulfed in guilt,
Continues to beat, washing off its filth.


With every beat of my heart,
That moment is getting closer,
And closer.