With Trumpets Sounding Poem by Khaldun Atum

I jump ashore,50 cal. in hand,
Everyone is dead, I'm the only man,
One shot is all I have,
I cannot miss, but I cannot stand.

I force my legs up and run the beach,
Bullets dance around me and shred the ground,
Bodies erupt on mines and blood sweeps
Across the sand; do the bullets pound.

A scope mounted on, I look through,
I lock on, my bullet goes right through,
He is dead, the war is now our attack,
I raise my horn in victory,
Blow a note, echo and rebounding,
I win the war, with trumpets sounding.