Stop The Fighting Poem by Thistle Wargul

Clawing, cursing,
Biting, crunching,
Bones are breaking, lives are taken.
Slicing, chopping,
Whipping, snapping,
Blood is spilling, people killing.
Bombs exploding,
Guns are shooting,
Running, forced to fight in war.

Dodging, stabbing,
Swords are hacking,
Men are crying out in pain.

My blood is racing, heart is pounding,
Eyes are streaming, ears hear screaming.
The shout goes up,
Over the top!
Race into the waiting storm.

At first it’s shooting,
Not yet seeing the
Men who’s deaths we’re responsible for.
But then I see him,
Face filled with fear,
The gun comes up,
And bang, he’s gone.

Dodging, shooting,
Hiding, looting,
My stash of bullets running out.
Knives unsheathing,
Bayonets gleaming,
And all has turned to dirty tricks.

Brawling soldiers everywhere,
Uniforms all stained with filth and blood.
There’s no way left for us to tell
Our friends from our foes.

Terrible pain pierces my soul,
A dagger slips between my ribs.
Sparks erupting in my vision,
The blade is twisting deeper still.
I see his face is streaked with tears,
And feel my life ebbing away.
I feel the agonies of the war,
And wish that we would fight no more.

Blade withdraws,
Streaked with scarlet,
An apology on his lips,
Filled with regret.

Eyes close.
Heart stops.
Dead.