Gaia

 
Uniforms killing uniforms, men killing men, sadness is the fact of life. War is a necessity.
Children holding firm to their mother’s fathers away in war. Everyday is a blessing and every drop of rain a tear from Gaia our creator our savior and sanctity. Everyday is a mystery, will we die or will we live to fear the nightmarish acts of the opposition? Everyday is a day I praise, with blood in the soil dagger in hand and armament at my side. Every bullet to a target every target a soul, Strange as it is to not control your own but to end another as if it were your own. Life in the end twisted tragic yet beautiful life we live. Never the less I cannot wait to see the end. So here I stand idly by watching my soul sanction by I reach for my dagger and see that the end is nigh. Blood seeping down to the sanctity of the ground now here I lay dying shot by the prowler of the night, bullet after bullet has finally claimed my sight. Now all I feel is the rain from Gaia her fading light.