In a war for power,
filled with grief and fear,
I surely would have died,
had my comrades not been near.
They pulled me out of the way,
in just the nick of time.
Then dragged my mangled body,
straight out of enemy lines.
They patched me up,
and said it was 'okay.'
They gave me a new hope,
maybe I would live a few more days.
Then we raced back into the fray.
Filled with gunfire and screams.
One day would last a lifetime.
One day could kill your dreams.
But we fought like soldiers.
We fought our best!
But the last remaining enemies,
put us through a grueling test.
They pulled one last grenade.
They pulled one last surprise.
Then just like that, they had us good.
Just like that, blood filled my eyes.
One-by-one, my comrades dissapeared.
I watched them die right to the end.
And only then I finally realised,
These guys weren't my comrades,
These guys were my friends.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.I would like to translate this poem