There is nothing like the first of kills,
but its mental pain is the worst of ills.
The loss of life seen in a face,
there is no way one can replace.
Its vividness of imagery,
in the mind as mental shadows.
The metals for a job well done,
almost make it kind of fun.
Alas it is but duty see,
a belief in impossibility.
Thats thrown upon a man like me,
the silent deadly sniper.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
Great work on this one! ! ! Sometimes people must do work which is not always pleasurable...not always morally acceptable...yet...someone has to do it! : -) I feel a certain compassion for those people.: -) Hugs, Dee