In your hands, a loaded rifle Your finger, white, rests on the trigger Your teeth clenched, your breath cut short Hatred still craves new blood Masked and motionless You lie alone in the silence of the forest and suddenly everything stops, freezes— this place where there is no time.
Look, they’re here, already creeping
alertly, cautiously, constantly crouching close to the ground
a steel helmet glints faintly,
a branch breaks beneath someone’s foot
Surely you are holding winged death
your eyes quickly search for a target
a boom, a click—the bullet softly groaned
—this is for you, my friend.
Look how the bullet caught him death mowed him down with a single blow stole his precious life, now hell is his fate So many of them have already died— This is for You, My Friend You quickly leap to your feet Blood pours from many wounds You fall into the snow and blissful peace At last, you are not alone. He departed quietly and peacefully Just as he had lived all that time He died like a soldier in war he died just like so many of you.