There a soldier lied on the exhausted sanatorium bed.
Stay unvoiced and insensitive as he bled.
Faintly opened his eyes to observe the mayhem,
While a red uniformed nurse was announcing several names.

At the same time as I, Dr. Bell the way I was known
Reached and stood beside him to analyze the boy alone
The other doctors refused to examine him as he was a foe
Whereas I, Dr. Bell known as a savior has a life to bestow

Neither did he move nor did he watch me staring at him
But relentlessly looked blankly on a white wall with a grim
Suddenly he gradually inserted his red hand into his pocket
To pull out a photograph soaked with blood and sweat

Tears flowed down from his eyes as kept on staring at it
I wore my spectacles and approached nearer to inspect it
I was accurately traumatized to an extended degree
For what it contains is a picture of his family!

He closed his eyes and remained silent for his life to dim
Finally, he inhaled his finishing breath before the last glimpse.

The coldness of winter stretched everywhere.
Is there any possibility to remain alive?
I scrutinized around but they all appeared same,
Young boys with an expression of terror.
‘Is anybody there?!’ I gave out a long shout;
My voice echoed through the lonely desert.
No sound responded except my own.
Sometimes ago it was tremendously noisy
But with the trade of violence everybody hushed.
I walked around searching for existence;
Walking through the crowd of silence wasn’t easy,
As I frequently stumbled upon the figures of dead.
Some of the faces weren’t recognizable
Yet I identified the fear in their appearances.

Suddenly, my eyes fell upon my companion!
It seemed like he was having a bad dream.
His body was pierced by the bullets.
‘Wake up, matey!’ I shouted at him
‘Your mother breathes with a hope!’
But he didn’t care to answer back to me.
Tears welled up my eyes and so I spoke:
‘You have given up your life but for what?
Death for death? Suffering for sufferance?
I know you have sacrificed your breath
Yet you will live a forgotten death…’

It was in a small town where I first felt love.
It was in our small town from nowhere where I first saw that smile;
that smile that could light up a room, or the whole world, even.
It was in that small town where we made a promise,
a promise that we'll both come back,
a promise we both failed to keep.
You see, darling, it was in that town where I had my very first heartbreak.
It was that town which saw my worst fears realized become a reality.
I was in that town when I received the news:
that you're never coming back.
In this town, I knew love but lost it too soon.
Yet this town will soon welcome a hero of the war, in a coffin enveloped by the country's emblem.
This town will welcome a son and shall soon engrave his legacy on a stone.
But I know I can't stay in this town for long, not when the signs speak of your name, not when the streets sing of your footsteps.
Darling, this town is not ours no more.
This old town speaks too much of our tragedy, of a love forever lost.
It is this town that symbolizes what we both had and what we'll never have.
And now I'm leaving this town to forget, to keep my sanity.
But as I leave this town, please know that I'm never leaving your memory.
**For it is one thing to forget this town, but quite another to forget my world: you.

I am holding a gun for the very first time
I am standing straight with my head up high
They promised my mum that I will be back
But only now I know that it was a lie.

He lights up a flare and gives drugs to me
I inhale slowly in hopes to be free
My legs are bleeding, my feet’s are bloodshed
Unbearable pain starting to spread.

There is a night which I will never forget
I was running next to a person who I barely met
My skin, my clothes were soaked and wet
Running under cold raindrops and playing pretend

Pictures and images stood concrete in my eyes
Flashing back at me and making me cry
It took few seconds for this moment to freeze
I remembered my life and the smell of the breeze  
Slipping through fingers, death used its claws
I turned for a second to give him a hand
He extended it further, but  was shot in the gland.

I lost all my mates throughout the fight,
I lost my mentality and I lost my fright.

One second, one shot, life taken away
Constant desires to sit down and pray
Not for my life, but for my mother,
I will try my best to stay alive rather .
Pray not for myself, but for my dad
For them to go through it and not to go mad.

I am living no more, but I am surviving,
I sit down one day and I just start writing
I wrote every feeling, emotion I had
I asked for a flare, inhaled the drug.

I have been aboard
the great iron ship
curls of white escaping
the bow
it cuts like a blade
fleeing clouds tumble
as I stand  above and benieth
the beautiful blue.
The day is at its brightest
yet I yearn for the stars
as that is when the sky
will truly wake

There's a monument outside of town
I go there when the sun goes down
And I listen....

The names upon that granite slab
Are worn and rusted, slightly drab
Still  I listen

There's a silence hanging in the air
Hiding the thoughts of those not there
And I listen

I sit upon the steps below
In rain, or sun, and even snow
And I listen

Thirty men remembered here
Though none of them are buried near
So I listen

I've met others beneath this pigeon roost
Whose spirits I have tried to boost
As I listen

I wait to hear them from the grave
The voices of the dead, the brave
And I listen

None has spoken out to me
I know they watch and they see
As I listen

I keep watch throughout the night
I head home when it is daylight
And I listen

During the day there's too much noise
To hear the voices of these boys
But, I listen

So each night as the sun goes down
I venture once more out of town
And I listen

I listen.....

He approached me in red
         A fellow of 20
         We could've been friends
But he and I senselessly armed
Predetermined enemies
         marked by a flag
         We could've swapped stories
of our hope of returning to the past
We both fired, I to he
          felled down with dignity
          We could've been friends
But he is dead rather than me
Unfortunate situation
           I had more luck than he
           We could've been friends
Before the madness and mayhem and ******
The sad thing is,
                             We could've been friends.
If we weren't victims
                             of circumstance.