War and peace
are never alike.
Thousands march,
and thousands slayed.
Many died,
and many captured.
All, but one,
survives.
He tries to flee,
and escape,
but doesn't want
to be timorous.
He is willing to
fight for his country,
but can't decide
if he can.
War rages on and killed many,
all but one survives.
And that is he.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem