With the horrid sound of battle all around, he tries to find peace. Screams of agony and pain, blood-lust and berserk alike, he pulls the trigger to end it all.
A young boy, to young for any war falls at his feet......he coldly pierces his flesh with his bayonet to be certain of his fate. With each thrust he sees a shadowy face, too dark to make out. A shell bursts above his head and with a instant flash sees the face of his son. In the heat of battle he freezes to this image, but it is soon gone.
Why does he kill? Why end lives that had just begun? What is he fighting for? He does not know but seeks momentary justice of his actions by saluting his flag, murmuring, I fight for my country, my family, my flag. On sleepless nights this tears at him, rips at the very fabric of his being. when he finally falls victim to long needed slumber they call for him on the far side of the river Styx. Staring and calling to him in eternal combat and strife. Pulling the trigger and ending another's life calms the battles on this world but stirs the gods of war to wage another in the depths of hell.
