Prisoner.

When did this get so hard
I don't know why every one has left
I thought they loved this place
I must have done something to drive them away
Did I...
What did I...
Why did I...
Why would I have done something
I usually don't

Some one else must have pushed them away
Where would that person have been
I'm the only one here
Is there a way out
There must be away out of here
I need out
I need my friends
I need my family

Where is the way out
Will I ever find it
Was it to much of a chance to drag me
along when they left
Maybe they missed it and are headed back to me now
Maybe they didn't miss it
Maybe I am all alone here
Why would they have left me
Is that the way out
Oh hey,
here comes my squad
wait thats the enemy
I have no bunker
I have no ammunition
I'm about to be prisoner

Thats the enemy...


Wrong.

I cannot but sense that I have done wrong. In times of war not peace. With a gun to hold. I cannot but sense that I have done wrong. When I look back upon myself, not once or twice but several times, I weep and cry for those lost, when we need they answer.

Stained Life.

A bright sky stained red,
By lost brothers and sisters
Taken from us when we least expected it
My time here done
Not before my comrade once lost


The Weapon.

I cannot look upon my hands,
whom committed such a sin
not loose but to hold
the weapon
when it should not have been told


Why.

Why then
Why am I here
What did he have to do with me,
no one really knows the answer that I need
Why can they not help me
Why can I not help myself
What did that shot have to do with this war,
no one really knows the answer that I need
Why...

One way out.

One hundred ways in,
one way out
I cannot believe that I have made it thus far
It is crazy to know that what is started is done
One hundred ways in,
one way out
Why not have my brothers and sisters come back
Waiting and wishing to see them
One gone, two cried
Two gone, one cried
One hundred ways in,
one way out
My squad headed forward
Headed out
None wishing to be here
All wishing, wanting, longing to be home
One hundred ways in,
One way out


Days.

Days one and two
Are always the hardest
Days three and four
Are always mild and full of drama
Days five and six
Are winding down
Day seven
Is when it starts all over