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Posted: Mon Dec 22, 2008 6:04 pm
Before you read my poem, take note that I mean to offend no person or party, this is simply my opinion on war and armies. It isn't a good opinion.
And it is also a long one.
The Soldiers A poem/future lyric by svaler. Sorrowfully.
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The soldiers, the soldiers, how proud they must be. To be out there, on the cold, dark ground, and fighting for their count-ry.
And we all know the stor-ies of honor and vict-ry and fear, and all those deep and touch-ing things a soldier loves to hear.
But is that the truth, is that all right? Or is it something else? Is there more to the life of a soldier who needs our help?
Truth will be told, for I am bold, the real things a soldier sees. And what they do and why they do and all those myst-rious things.
The soldiers, the soldiers, they turn mad with fear. Those once eager souls they now fold, before the wars mighty.
Homes are burnt, children taken, hostages are killed. There is no rhyme or rea-son on the battlefield.
The soldiers, the soldiers, with heavy artillery. Long guns and flaming things we all despair to see.
They charge the doors, they break the glass, no regard at all. These honored men all lost in the glorious battle call.
The soldiers, the soldiers, many of them there be. Young boys who want to im-m-press and vet-er-ans who can bare-ly see. All have fought and many have killed. they are all soldiers to me.
The soldiers, the soldiers, so many of them there be. Hundreds of thousands of millions, billions dirty and frozen feet.
They walk for miles, they starve and shake, in their endless travel-ing. Day and night and cold twilight, there's always a soldier to see.
The soldiers, the soldiers, they can almost be label-d tools. Tools and toys for the mighty men who run our counter-ies.
The soldiers, the soldiers, they never really see. How deep they're in, how imposs-ble escape be.
For once you're there, once you've donned that suit that they all wear, you're trapped, you cannot ever leave, at least not easily.
The soldiers, the soldiers, for them I feel sorry. For they are fighting an endless war, which we know 's unnecessa-r-ry.
They cry, they scream, for it to end. For all o' it to be past . But the only ones who hear their pain are the ones to die at their hands.
The soldiers, the soldiers, they run rampant with-out flee, forced to fight and forced to die, for their wondr-ful counter-ry.
The soldiers, the soldiers, hearts somber and hea-vy. They watch their closest friends fall, but they can do nothing.
The soldiers, the soldiers, never to be the same, some return, some come back, but most are only unnamed.
A soldier, a soldier, is that what you want to be? You'd just be a tiny part of a mons-trous war machine.
The soldiers, the soldiers, that life is not for me.....[3x]
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Posted: Fri Dec 26, 2008 6:16 pm
This made me so sad.
And also made me really glad I talked Nic out of joining the military...because while I may not agree with all of it...especially the last part is so true.
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