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Rafhael Vieira Jul 2015
War
I marched
Weapon ready
Hands sweating
Arms shaking.

Shots,explosions,screams
The battlefield shaping itself around me
Friends gone,lives lost
Families destroyed.

Blood on my hands
Silence on the field
Victory claimed at last
But it was really worth?
The war may be won
But my soul may not.

— The End —