Shall we speak of battles fought?
Of wars yet unwon?
Or victories earned by small steps?
Shall I hide behind the lines
While others march on?
Or shall I take my position?
Will you cradle me when I fall?
Shall I cradle you?
Or will we carry ourselves off the field?
Why do we fight so?
Why do others fight us?
Sensless injuries on endless plains.
My brother, we speak in riddles
When we return to our homes.
Family, friends, feel but don't understand.
We live out our lives, battle after battle.
War after war.
We don't know why, yet we press on.
We are comrades put together.
Family not by blood in our veins.
By the blood we wipe off each other.
Peace and love, fellow comrades.
There are reasons I'm taking medication. They're called "other people." - Me, displaying my anti-social tendancies