Fight Slowly walking, Quickly fading, Bad eyesight, Always making Sure of danger; Always creeping, Never dying, Too surprising. Round a corner, Ever nearer. Sub comes up, A little clearer. When there- There he stands. Quick-thinking combat-hands. He's walking into territory he doesn't understand. Raising sight to eye, His thoughts; they multiply. He's looking down a barrel of death, to end someone's #life. Within a split second- A bullet rips through his arm. 1, 2, 3 more and a 4th through his heart. He stumbles... Quietly shaking. Memories of past, Quickly fading. The noise of battle... Finally leaving. No more stress, No more pain... Nothing to lose, Yet nothing to gain... He closes his eyes. His fellow guys, Carry on, as before.
