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These are
Perilous times that we are living in.
We fight in war every day
And wonder if tomorrow will end.
Moments of happiness
For the most part have gone away.
Fear and hatred
Have now taken their place.
We hate people or fear them
People that we don't even know.
Because someone tells us that it is war
It's not personal.
We watch our friends and family
Laying upon the ground.
Red, wet blood fresh upon them
As yet another shot rings out.
Our feet sore, calloused, and perhaps bloody
Because we have pushed onward, and keep going for so long.
Without rest
As we long for victory.
So unsure, and not knowing if this will be my last letter to you
As I lay my weary body down to sleep.
I write this letter to you my darling
Only hoping that it will arrive.
As we live in our last days
Just waiting and lonely.
Waiting...
To live or to die.
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