Got no faith,
Got no soul,
Marches on,
Through bullets and bombs,
Robotic limbs,
Blood stains his clothing deep and viscous red,
Falls slowly to the ground,
Dead behind the eyes,
Screams for his mother,
Prays to God,
Prays for the end,
Shakes,
Dies,
Eyes lit by explosions they cannot see,
And all is quiet,
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
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