Your face speaks of fright
Your heart beats with tenderness
Your muscle is flexible like a tadpole’s
What turned you into a soldier?
Why are you in the infantry
Being yet at your infancy?
Why waste away at war
When you can be productive at home?
Is it the fear of death
That made you so brave
Feeding the thirst of your gun
With blood of innocent victims like you?
Who says the rain will not stop?
Who says there won’t be a rainbow afterwards?
After dusk comes the rising of another sun
Drop your gun
And go back home
Written by: Albert Seraphin
I am a member of the WRR editorial team.