glassy tears accentuate a wan smile
limp hand mirrors diminished vitality
as young flesh begins to shrink
consumed by the growling dogs of war

a comrade at arms does his best to stay calm
she looks at him as her bowels slide to the ground
from a stomach ripped open by cluster bombs
and asks him: will i be able to make it comrade
is this not the last sunset that i see with these eyes of mine