The soldier cleaned his gun in anticipation
for the battle he would be fighting. His mind
was focused on his job. His heart was centred
on his illusions. Lonely soldier in a uniform
without a mind of his own. His officers
received their orders from somewhere else,
from men and women who were fighting a
war of greed. Death was nothing more than
a statistic which would be tabulated and
toned down for the media. Not good to let
the world know the actual cost of human
life in the adventure. A tear fell from his
eyes at the thought of how many men he
had killed. He remembered sitting in his kitchen
talking to his wife and making plans for
the future. That was until somebody
somewhere far away had determined
the future was not his to plan. So he worked
at his task in mind of constant wonder at
the waste he was trained to create. His
entire purpose in life was to **** and so he
killed as best he could. The faces of the
enemy reminded him of himself. Other men
who had sat at home with their wives talking
about their futures together. Such a waste of
young ambition by the old men and women who
sat comfortable in the governments of life.
Lonely soldier surrounded by his comrades
all of whom equally trained to hate and ****
Ah, but the bands would play and the magic
of hero dust would fall upon the shoulders
of the men at arms. How brave they would
be in the battle with their blood splattered
all over their clean uniforms. The soldier knew
he fought for a cause but it was odd that
the cause was never quite explained, save
for speeches on freedom and destruction
and illusions of happiness when the enemy
were all dead. Lonely soldier was startled by
an enemy as he cleaned his gun. The two
men glared at one another wondering who
would die first. Soldier and enemy came to
a major decision. Each stripped off their clothes
and stood naked in front of one another.
Two naked men. Without their uniforms.
Now which of them was the enemy?
May 6, 2016
May 6, 2016 at 6:16 PM UTC
The soldier cleaned his gun in anticipation
for the battle he would be fighting. His mind
was focused on his job. His heart was centred
on his illusions. Lonely soldier in a uniform
without a mind of his own. His officers
received their orders from somewhere else,
from men and women who were fighting a
war of greed. Death was nothing more than
a statistic which would be tabulated and
toned down for the media. Not good to let
the world know the actual cost of human
life in the adventure. A tear fell from his
eyes at the thought of how many men he
had killed. He remembered sitting in his kitchen
talking to his wife and making plans for
the future. That was until somebody
somewhere far away had determined
the future was not his to plan. So he worked
at his task in mind of constant wonder at
the waste he was trained to create. His
entire purpose in life was to **** and so he
killed as best he could. The faces of the
enemy reminded him of himself. Other men
who had sat at home with their wives talking
about their futures together. Such a waste of
young ambition by the old men and women who
sat comfortable in the governments of life.
Lonely soldier surrounded by his comrades
all of whom equally trained to hate and ****
Ah, but the bands would play and the magic
of hero dust would fall upon the shoulders
of the men at arms. How brave they would
be in the battle with their blood splattered
all over their clean uniforms. The soldier knew
he fought for a cause but it was odd that
the cause was never quite explained, save
for speeches on freedom and destruction
and illusions of happiness when the enemy
were all dead. Lonely soldier was startled by
an enemy as he cleaned his gun. The two
men glared at one another wondering who
would die first. Soldier and enemy came to
a major decision. Each stripped off their clothes
and stood naked in front of one another.
Two naked men. Without their uniforms.
Now which of them was the enemy?
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