A gust of wind brings up a smell,
Of an unforgiving living hell,
The sweat and blood fills up ground
So thickly, muffling every sound.
The sky’s not blue, not even gray,
I’ve never seen it die this way.
The bullets brush against my hair,
But I am numb, I just don’t care.
Seconds, minutes, hours, days,
They fly, I fight, I live, I pray,
I hear my mother’s silent fears,
I know her dried-up, worried tears.
I tell my beaten soul “survive,”
I know that I must stay alive,
We stay here ‘til the job is done,
We’ll kill them, each and every one.