Blood Lies

I lie at back against the trench wall. Arm trickles with blood from bullet wound. Air feverish, soaring wind hammers high above. Soldiers drag their feeble bodies, drenched in gash, bolted within the moral decision to die for the Motherland. Atop the trench broken bones and rotting flesh litters the ground. Those men had been brave and miss-driven by lies. The air polluted by burning agony, dying souls from every corner and the notorious smirk from whom pulled the trigger.
Dreadful war cries arise, summoning the next round. Nor man or women can refuse the right to live or die. Gunshots soak my eardrums with sounds of scraping steel against rusty metal, drawing death’s crown to the king. I’m lifted and dragged through swampy waters; an icy chill assaults my sickly body.
Booms from above cause every solider to lose breath. I close my eyes, masking few of my senses, attempting to flee from this poverty. Escaping from all the lost soldiers. My whole life feels like a path in a maze, leading to this moment I perish in battle, betraying my family. How could I choose this hell over their love? Because I wished to become a hero, alike my father, who fought the Civil War, dragging himself with wounds and a crushed soul by those who’d stomped on it. But Luck beheld him, he limped back alive. How vigorously proud of his courageous acts they were.
Stood I in his foot steps starving to be courageous as he was…
But instead with a shot arm and sore soul I am dragged towards most assumed death.
Rough arms lay me on a hard boulder; back aching, breath barely making exit from my lungs. Knifes are used to dig through my tough infected skin to retrieve the bullet. The atrocious sting like a needle in a haystack. I open my pupils and surprisingly the pain increases.
Propped against the rigid wall, bullet gone, but still I bleed in a hurry.
“Solider is healed, much ready for battle once more!”
One of the men said, “I see no reason to decline, without a piercing bullet wound this solider is ready for the continuance of battle. Solider! I summon you to arise!” in a rash tone the other man said. Yet I could not rise having no energy left to climb up wall. Standing back where gunfire shrieks in the air, I would meet my end almost immediately. “Solider, if you refuse to stand I shall put a bullet in your head!” pulling a large gun from his side he aim towards my skull. Blood would be drawn whether or not my refusal, everyone lost in this game. Bravery crushed with explosions, scarred spirits lift from the rubble.
Every human lives for a reason, to explore lands, gathering knowledge about the world and discovering ancient ruins in your mind. Each breath is a blessing from the all mighty, each heartbeat is a reason to keep on going. I was about to say goodbye to it all in a single beat.
“In ten counts if you still lay I shall strike upon your death!”

In those seconds, I realized I had come so far to return back; my father had gotten through war, keeping courage and strength. Knowing the pain would cease to sting eventually. Managing all of little strength I store, I stir to my feet.
My knees like weights, my body heavy barley supported by the wall. What was the point in attempting to climb in this condition? I require uplifting help, but no one volunteered. Deciding to use my long gun to hoist myself up for a moment or two allowing myself above the trench, chance of being shot once above was likely but worth a try.
“Charge!!” they yelled, I put my two feet on the tip of the gun, then pulling up with all my might I lay at the top. Luckily I carried the second gun for the first dropped below. BOOM!!! BOOM!!!! Pulling the trigger in the direction of whom was attacking, I struggled to rise. Soldiers ran through the dusty fog shooting, bombs zooming left and right.
A man tumbles aside where I struggle to stand. His face covered in blood and dirt, I recognize him, he who lay was a friend. His name Roger, who came to war alongside me years before having notice we were recruited. He and his wife given life to three beautiful children who he loved more than his own heartbeat. Now he lay dead upon his grave. War ‘o war why have you stepped between the lines of good and left us with nothing but blood shot wounds? This earth used to thrive in beauty. Daisies bloomed and the streams whistled. The fish swam and the lions roared in the sunlight, attracting its family. But here I lay upon mother’s dirt, blurry eyed and watching a brave man die for his sacrifice. Cold, cold war…. Unmerciful shame you have brought upon, suffocating happiness in a pit of hell…. but in the end you shall fall. The lions shall roar and the streams shall flow with the whistling sound of restored peace.