I stand behind enemy lines,
Hiding in the shadows.
"There's no war," they whisper
As they laugh around a fire and cheat at cards-
Old flintlocks and rifles and powder barrels
Uniforms tossed aside, I'm,
Still covered in the grime, hiding the glare from my eyes
Glued to the dirt walls of this trench
"It's almost Christmas", they say
Don't you know what happened in WW1?
How they all went out to shake hands on Christmas day?
I'm in enemy territory, even while they find me and lead me
To the fire, where they take off my soaked coat and insist
There is no war. There is no battle.
But the fight I've fought will never tire-
It's so much easier than opening my eyes
To see that I'm loved, and part of something,
Just to realize....
Who wins the war? The victims or the victors?
I've hated this year since the beginning, I just wish I knew
If next year or the next, or these people and places I miss,
Are worth fighting for.