Muharib. sierra leone

Muharib. Thinking for you is no longer critical. your head left there to elaborate on plotted schemes, dreams don't exist. And amongst enemies you share blood after bullets. No one will see your faint cries over the clouds of powder. Humanity lost after the first rounds you blew into a weak soul, even pleading eyes told you this was wrong. But, its not your fault. When all you could do was survive. You learned to fetch for guts like water engulfing that bitter sweet taste of revenge cause you were taught to show no mercy for ones believed to have taken your family. blending in with cold hearts. camouflaged to evil. Bullets caps blocked you from noticing truth, fact of reason why you smiled to blood pumping out of throats, choking on life. Shorties are no longer remorseful. went from playgrounds to battle grounds. Childhood sweating off their fingertips onto the cold steel that resembled the toy guns they use to play with. But they are not toy soldiers, this is war!. GOT THESE top cheifs recruiting. setting them up to be targets and shields of protection. they dont have any other choice but to be test dummies to these armed forces, forged into danger. Hazardous grounds seems to be a place of play firing rounds off the AK'S Death counts ranging far from the number scale. The imagery of forgotten souls escaping pale faces more exciting to you then the sounds of guns clapping itself. your adolescent soul touched with the coldest grasp. those daily doses of drugs, draining your brain of sense mixtures of the brown brown and cocaine made your mind hallucinate. devastation to these villages, isnt enough to make you quit. the act of forgiveness is slowly slipping as you take your vengeance and let it rip through bodies. stepping over lifeless figures stepping over lifeless figures. but it's not your fault, when you were forced to kill at twelve! pulling the trigger 5 times sending hot steel into their kneecaps, they collapsed multiple short breaths caught by the crisp air caged inside insanity. but your breaths became shorter, as you stared in disbelief when YOUR homie peirced the air with a scream that deafened you cringed inside facing the reality of knowing you couldn't stop death just like it couldn't stop you. becomming envious to the fact that the blood shed on your side wasn't as thicke as on the other and in that jealous rage a gang of lifes lost. captivated by the pain you witnessed. Muharib, the sons of sierra leone longing for more...