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‘Two Friends Torn Apart by War, Only to meet again, In the midst of battle, On Seperate Sides
The Courageous Soldiers on both Sides stared Down Their Opponents, None noticed the Beautiful Meadow that Surrounded Them all, Not One Cared that the Ghastly War They Fought, Was all for Not, Still; All silently Waited for the First Shot to Ring, Until It Came.
For the Two Friends met once again, Both died at the Hand of One, And a Gun’
Bullets Flew, Fear, Anger, and Hate Reigned, Horror Came, And Never left, One Day out of many to Never Forget, The Wounded and the Doomed cried out for Help, Yet the Nightmare went on;
Only One of the Two left the Field that day, For the Other lay still, Soaked in a pool of His own Blood, Killed by the Hand of His Childhood Friend. Many Good People Died that Day, Some Inside and Others Out, The Fear and the Caos Calmed, However, None who Witnessed this War that Waged, Would Ever be Quite the Same.
A Shot rang out in a Moment of Peace, All Stood Tense, Wearily waiting.Soon Sad Eyes Gazed Down at the Ground, Now Stained with Blood;
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