Enemy...

The silence haunts me,
It has for quite some time now.
Funny how in the midst of such silence,
You can still hear the voices of those who once were.

I lay here with my rifle in hand,
And a cigarette in my mouth.
It's only a matter of time before they get to me.
There are only so many bodies one can hide behind,
Befor he is caught out.

My hands tremble as I try to get a spark from my lighter,
Which is hard to do when the rain is penetrating the earth,
Like millions of tiny tears.

I often mutter to myself,
Why am I here? What good is to come from this? 
Why don't I just go home? 
The answer is simple really,
Because the enemy I face is far worse than any other.

He is quick, decisive, and will certainly destroy you,
If you let him take charge.
Well that's what I've been told.
Suddenly I feel a pain pulsating from my chest.
I turn around to see a figure,
With his bayonet working its way deeper into my chest.

As the life slowly fades from my eyes, 
I see the true identity of my enemy,
And it is at that moment all becomes clear,
My worst enemy was really,
Me...