Something of Myself

Because Life's like that

It's a battlefield. Lonely and tiresome.
Corpses all around me,
There is death in the air.

The fields that were green
Are charred with smoke.
The streets that were teeming
Are engulfed in deathly silence.
The bells do not chime anymore for
There is death in the air.

There are roses no more.
There is death in the air,
With me in the middle of it.
Alone. Fearful. Weary and shocked.

The houses are all empty.
The smoke is pitch black.
Hatred has assumed a different meaning.
And there
I see the limb of a dead soldier
And it makes me feel
There is death in the air.

Blood, nausea and filth all around.
I hold on to my gun dearly
But I fail to realise
That there is no one to be killed.
The battle is over,
Or so it seems,
Because
There is death in the air.

I can hear the cries of their beloved
Moaning in sorrow.
Their hearts ripped apart by the fate of this war -
This never-ending, inexorable war.
I can see the deformed faces of my mates,
Comrades with whom I fought -
A passion we shared, a passion to kill 'cause
There is death in the air.

The tears have given way to blindness,
They have been robbed of their laughter,
There are parties no more.
The infant kid longs for his father,
The mother for his child,
The lover calls out his name, in vain.
She does not know
There is death in the air.

I wonder what this life is.
This death in the air.