striker force and the widowmakers

 why do I have my soul in my lap and this pen in my hand, I've earned my stripes they said, and the blood is not mine to keep, but as the rounds tumble to the ground I lose more and more of myself,  
 
  I wake up to the sounds of automatic gunfire, this time ever so close, sweat drips from my body heavily, with only one choice, I move thru  the rocket-propelled venom that's spitting thru my walls, I hear their screams as I tumble this body into the night towards their cries, evil breaks the sound barrier has it rockets passed my head into the crooked pictures on the wall, I arrive, there  are two children in pure terror screams you've never heard and never want to.  
    
   I can only take one, reaching down I scoop up a boy, he has pure terror written all over his face he's  drenched in sweat, tears, snot, and drywall,
 
   I exit the room crouched down I scream to my partner move! grab the girl!!  
her arms are over her head covering it like the depleted uranium tipped rounds won't pierce thru her skull as they pass thru the house, over and over again another piece of venom passes by my head breaking the sound barrier reminding me I am all alone, I can not go back , I must move forward leaving them,  
 
   I run into the never ending darkness with a boy in my arms and his little hands grasp tightly around me, we run stumble thru the darkness, to our savior, a porcelain bathtub we collapse inside and I pray for the machine gun fire to stop, screaming her name hoping to hear her voice still. I hear nothing.
 
I don't care if you like this poem, story whatever you want to call it, and I don't care about spelling errors, or poets or poems, it was solely for me and peace.