This place I once called home,
Is suddenly just a house.
This place where I've played,
Where I've wept, and prayed
This place once filled with laughter and weeping
Is now filled with silence, heavy and creeping.
A silence where tensions are building
as each man prepares to fight.
I wonder when the silence will crack,
When the first shot will fire,
When Hell won't be held back
All I can feel is anticipation
As I hold my concentration
And pray I won't break the silence.
If this war's to go on,
We will each become a pawn.
And No one will leave uninjured.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem