Post by me on Dec 1, 2007 8:01:56 GMT -5
The death of a soldier
My life slowly fades away
Red blood paints the ground around me
My flesh burns with painful fire
Burning flames all around me, yet nothing can be seen
I gave my body to my cause, my family, my country
For their freedom I died, burned by demons fire
I went to war for something I believed in
My blood to protect my comrades, my life to save them
I sacraficed myself, yet I am no Christ
A human sacrafice, upon no altar
I fade away, and shall not die
My cause, my friends shall remember me
But my sacrafice is perverted to darkness
People justice for my death
But I died willingly, for my flag and my freedom
Not for some hidden agenda like they say
Please do not pervert my sacrafice
My spilt blood shall not be corrupted
Please do not take my name for your cause
My good name erased in the world
You say they think us nothing but statistic
Yet you are the one who throws around these numbers
You realize not how small these numbers are
Yet you cry false tears for each one, as if they are thousands
We are only a fact to you, numbers to further your cause
Only we know why we died, willingly leaving our lives
We are not numbers, we are fathers, brothers, sons and friends
I fade away and die, a sacrafice for my land.
My life slowly fades away
Red blood paints the ground around me
My flesh burns with painful fire
Burning flames all around me, yet nothing can be seen
I gave my body to my cause, my family, my country
For their freedom I died, burned by demons fire
I went to war for something I believed in
My blood to protect my comrades, my life to save them
I sacraficed myself, yet I am no Christ
A human sacrafice, upon no altar
I fade away, and shall not die
My cause, my friends shall remember me
But my sacrafice is perverted to darkness
People justice for my death
But I died willingly, for my flag and my freedom
Not for some hidden agenda like they say
Please do not pervert my sacrafice
My spilt blood shall not be corrupted
Please do not take my name for your cause
My good name erased in the world
You say they think us nothing but statistic
Yet you are the one who throws around these numbers
You realize not how small these numbers are
Yet you cry false tears for each one, as if they are thousands
We are only a fact to you, numbers to further your cause
Only we know why we died, willingly leaving our lives
We are not numbers, we are fathers, brothers, sons and friends
I fade away and die, a sacrafice for my land.
The above contains a small amount of my opinion about the anti war movement today.
The shot Philosophical questions of a sniper
Here I stand once again
Before a moral quandry
I have questions that need answers
Before I decide my boundries
Is it moral to kill a man?
If it would save a country
Would it be right to lose my soul?
Because of this moral quandry
As I sit and stare through my scope
The question hits me once again
If one is ok, then what of two or twenty?
If twenty is allowed, then what of another hundred?
It is a question without end you see
And that is what confuses me
For if killing a single man is allowed
Then all of life is within my bounds
They would be mere targets for my sniper scope
Waiting lambs in my crosshairs
There would be nothing that could save them
For there are no sheperds in this land
I take a breath and pull the trigger
Waiting for the sense of guilt
Instead I find satisfaction
Another fine shot, another fine kill
There was still the question I posed myself
But a question it would remain
It would but sit as it had to
If my life I wished to retain
Here I stand once again
Before a moral quandry
I have questions that need answers
Before I decide my boundries
Is it moral to kill a man?
If it would save a country
Would it be right to lose my soul?
Because of this moral quandry
As I sit and stare through my scope
The question hits me once again
If one is ok, then what of two or twenty?
If twenty is allowed, then what of another hundred?
It is a question without end you see
And that is what confuses me
For if killing a single man is allowed
Then all of life is within my bounds
They would be mere targets for my sniper scope
Waiting lambs in my crosshairs
There would be nothing that could save them
For there are no sheperds in this land
I take a breath and pull the trigger
Waiting for the sense of guilt
Instead I find satisfaction
Another fine shot, another fine kill
There was still the question I posed myself
But a question it would remain
It would but sit as it had to
If my life I wished to retain
Because of time restraints I will have to add the rest when I get back on....much later....