Image by Joan Greenman from Pixabay
With blood on my hands
I looked at the enemy
Hate, anger, I do not recognize myself.
Who I am?
who have I become?
I lost my humanity
with the third wounded,
when they make you understand
that you must kill,
that they are not friends.
Then…
Our eyes met,
And I knew I was lost
he was my friend,
that man whom he had hurt,
he was my friend,
He was studying with me
he was my friend,
We promised that we would visit
but due to lack of time,
we never did.
I forgot the soldier
I forgot that I was supposed to kill
to the man who bled on that road.
I forgot my flag
It was just a piece of cloth
and that, a senseless war.
I knelt down next to him,
I apologized for following orders
of an unscrupulous,
of someone who signs a war,
and stains his hands
with the blood of our neighbors.
I apologized for being a hit man,
to close your eyes,
for shooting without thinking,
because I am a soldier,
and the soldiers don’t ask,
they only put their lives in danger
to save his country
from any threat,
defend the earth
in which they were born.
But we were the bad guys
the ones we disturbed,
those of us who killed innocents,
those of us who shot without blinking.
His life passed in my arms,
my tears erased
to the soldier.
Under the rain
they were only left
two friends hugging,
destroyed by a system of hate
that neither of them
had searched.
