I'm far past gone
All the blood i've seen
Spilt on the sand
A bright crimson sheen
It was nothing but a waste
Being here today
No ones coming home
No one but me with nothing to say
I don't want to talk
About all that I do
My best friends helmet cracking
A bullet passed through
The sounds of the rifles
Across the sand
And white hot feeling
Of the shot through my hand
I was out cold
As I collapsed
I don't remember waking
Just the piles and a relapse
Of corpses
I once called my friends
I should of stayed back
And fixed the loose ends
I don't know why
They just let me leave
This IS my soldiers hell
So just let me greave
Aug 24, 2010
Aug 24, 2010 at 5:31 PM UTC
I'm far past gone
All the blood i've seen
Spilt on the sand
A bright crimson sheen
It was nothing but a waste
Being here today
No ones coming home
No one but me with nothing to say
I don't want to talk
About all that I do
My best friends helmet cracking
A bullet passed through
The sounds of the rifles
Across the sand
And white hot feeling
Of the shot through my hand
I was out cold
As I collapsed
I don't remember waking
Just the piles and a relapse
Of corpses
I once called my friends
I should of stayed back
And fixed the loose ends
I don't know why
They just let me leave
This IS my soldiers hell
So just let me greave
©Bruno Joseph Orsi
August 24, 2010