Orders being shouted
trying to drown the screams of explosions.
Survival being doubted;
There's no hope in this world of convulsion.
There's blood on every sweat stained uniform
and tears in every man and woman's eyes.
In the mind of these soldiers, hatred is formed
and they all know that tonight, they may die.
Yet they stand tall and remain strong.
They fight for their families and loved ones.
They fight for what's right and deminish what's wrong.
They dream of the day when the fighting is all said and done.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem