I am off mother,
to the war over yonder.
Do not shed your tears,
hoard them,
in the case,
that the miser that is war,
take me.
I will fight for the faceless men,
who declare war in spite,
hate,
and anything they can veil in the tattered name of 'justice'.
I will fight against my brother,
through the land,
be it grass or forest,
swamp or sand.
My friends I grow to know so well,
ones that I was close to as if we were brothers our entire life,
die by my side,
with no hope of survival.
I will fight to the gates of the other faceless man,
to **** him because we are told to.
When the deed is done,
I will come home,
but you will not know me.
I will be haunted,
by those faces of the one I killed,
for those without a face.
And if I do not return,
be in comfort,
for I will be in Heaven,
for I have already been in Hell.
Apr 20, 2010
Apr 20, 2010 at 7:04 PM UTC
I am off mother,
to the war over yonder.
Do not shed your tears,
hoard them,
in the case,
that the miser that is war,
take me.
I will fight for the faceless men,
who declare war in spite,
hate,
and anything they can veil in the tattered name of 'justice'.
I will fight against my brother,
through the land,
be it grass or forest,
swamp or sand.
My friends I grow to know so well,
ones that I was close to as if we were brothers our entire life,
die by my side,
with no hope of survival.
I will fight to the gates of the other faceless man,
to **** him because we are told to.
When the deed is done,
I will come home,
but you will not know me.
I will be haunted,
by those faces of the one I killed,
for those without a face.
And if I do not return,
be in comfort,
for I will be in Heaven,
for I have already been in Hell.
Once again, just a random thought making it's self known. A little thing on war, form a soldier's point of view, as he is leaving his grieving mother.