War Preserved Poem by Seth Argon

If I say it enough; it wil all be a joke
but what if it were planned?
I know it all to well, the moves the thoughts
I know it like the palm of my hand!

'What if' is the question? To whom it may concern
Thought is the answer, but when is it my turn?
I move a bit forward, I move a bit back
I wait for the right moment; the words of 'attack'

Shots are fired, screams are heard
lives are stolen, corpses are burned
I stand hear alone at my dead friendds feet
I say 'soon enough we shall meet'.