Was I evil, because I had lived?

I'd asked this question so

Many, many, many times

Never an answer

Always a hidden "yes"

But no one has said it

Point blank

To my face

Because they all know what I've been through
But I'm yet to hear a "NO"

Or even the hint of a no

Because no one is ever truthful

People are like birds

They scatter at the slightest movement

Not caring who they left behind

Because the most important person

Is yourself

At least, that's what they tell you in war

They say

War changes people

I've seen first hand what


Can actually do

But I'm not that person anymore

We don't talk about the past

We never did

Because it pained them to know

Who I used to be

But I can never forget

I remember her face

I remember his body

I remember my deals with

The devil

Though years have passed

I remember,

I still hear the shot before I can even

See the gun

In my own hands
I see her face, through a window

Tears stream down her cheeks

I can see the pure agony etched onto her

Soft features

She stares down at the body

Lying at my feet

Her lips form around a word

And suddenly


Everything changes


The lies they tell you in war...so many lies.

War is productive


For believing the words

That held not a whisper of



Soldiers aren't people


For just killing

Not thinking of the humans we



It won't last forever


For not seeing the lies


Behind dead eyes

War is full of empty promises

But when the fighting actually starts...

Killing is a drug


A battlefield

A blood encrusted earth

A command cries

I charged forward, armed

And ready

To kill

My enemy hesitates

Unsure of how to fight me

They all die

And die

And die

And die

And die


Lost among a sea of faces


A child among men

That word again drops from her lips


I feel her pain

Her grief

And my guilt

And suddenly war doesn't matter anymore

So now I ask you again

Was I evil because I had lived?


Because so many had to die in my place

The war taught me that

Life is addictive

People are evil

Guns are icy cold

And that happiness

Isn't real

And never

For not one second

Did I forget the face

Of a daughter in


At the end

When all hope is lost


The only thing you can do is


That's what I spent my last days doing

And now my life is just a sad story

And in a sad stor


Skips to


And it's funny how easily

They forget

How hard

The middle of the journey was...

And though her soul is slain

She holds a sick kind of perfection

When I feel her pain

Like fire in my veins

I turn away from my reflection

The story of a Child Soldier