Men waiting in lines, a face-off
Think of their lives
As they stand preparing for death
The rows stand there, across the field
Then the runs begin
Bodies ram into each other
Only fear propels them forward
A fear of death
The fear of life strikes them later
Men remember their legacy
As death claims them
What they left behind is worse off
Nature’s law, its instincts kick in
Kill or be killed
Monsters are made of men this day
Sun drops below the horizon
Fighting has paused
Death still continues through the night
They go back to the battle site
Clearing the way
For the death to continue on
The lifeless shrieks sound through the night
Hanging to life
Those who live don’t sleep through the night
Again the lines have been reformed
Their ranks have thinned
Again they charge forward, to death
Hope is all the propels these men forward
For life, for death
They run onward, heedlessly forward
No longer they care, death is random
Death is easier
To return home empty shells
As they run forth into their death
Wishes are granted
They’ve been released from their burden
They choose the hope, the fear, the fate
They choose the death
They didn’t choose the effect on others
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem