Yellow and orange,
fill the sky.
Kids, men, everyone cries.
Still standing in the middle,
the one to die.

Army Green,
covering the plain.
The pain that remains,
will stay the same.

We're all here together,
for the same reason.
At home they're proud of us,
while raising our guns.

We seem to be heroes,
though taking lives.
No one sees it,
through those eyes.
Is it our disguise?