On this hill
I stand still
hold a gun
against my will
strapped within
my willful sin
but to earn my life
I shall kill
why am I here
I do not know
fight against
a friend or foe
a mother's son
a woman's love
bodies I dropped
his life nomore
bodies falling
everywhere
but is it right?
Who is to care?
what if my
turn is next
I think of it
and begin to fear
a coward
a servant
a few more names
I've been dubbed
keep moving
my master yells
obey me
you lazy scrub
will this end
or will I die
one more falls
I hear him cry
there's not much
left in him
vultures await
up in the sky
chilling thoughts
fills in me
bloody hills
look so grim
can do it
nomore now
I beg you master
please let me in
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
a deep thought and penned very good. a worthy work