It was summer, and I was breathing heavily
I glanced to my left, and they were walking steadily
I gazed across my row, and apprise them in fear
They're getting closer, I can feel tension, they're near

I can feel the insipidness of each soldier
I can feel them getting bolder
I can feel how badly they want to win
As the smoke grows light and thin

We ran apace to the nearest tree to hide
I can feel my heart jumping , wanting to come out from my inside
Our condition was clear, we're going to die
I didn't know what to do, so I gazed to the sky

I prayed with all my heart
For my whole body was tearing apart
I breathe in and out
And then with all I am, I came out

I swiftly raced my gun to my chest
I walked forward, to pass the test
Flabbergasted, blood were flowing here and there
This is war! Our leader declared

This is the first and hopefully not my last war
I shoot constantly, to come afar
I reached a safe haven to rest awhile
As I watch some being shot even from a mile

I wondered of how I can survive
I wondered of how to keep myself alive
I wished to hide forever, but I prefer not to
For I'd rather die than to be called timid by you

I charged toward a combatant
Boom and blam, blood was flowing from me, it was patent
I was shot from behind, and i trembled in dread
I lay down to the meadows, like it was my bed

As I was about to die, I reminisced a thought
Is this war worth to be fought?
Back to my mom, she was smiling at me
She glared at me in awe, like she was glad with what she see

I was dying and smiling simultaneously
It was enough to fight, dangerously
I did enough, I guess
There's too much I did already, too much mess

I closed my eyes, and count to three
I talked to myself and me
Asking, if I did hid, would I live?
Is this war, worth my life to give?

Though altercations of a secessionist sound stern,
Their minds are stuck and never learn.
Through a disabled rebellion their built,
Words designed to deplete one's self are spilt.
Although it's said consummation executes in the leaning vice of the secessionist,
The desecration becomes the birth of the segregationist.
The segregation of closed mindedness with those of the voice.
The voice has sculpted our worlds obedience choice by choice.
The voice has seen demons at their best and angels at their worst,
There is a reason why this world hasn't burst.
You see, our world is seen through a lens,
This lens doesn't defy our worth and script the uncleansed.
It simply sets a standard for the closed minded to follow,
The voice, doesn't have a standard to follow, this voice makes the lens for those left to follow tomorrow.

-Joseph B Schneider