Automatically enlisted and taken away,

At the fragile age of 18.

Brothers.

Sons.

Lovers torn apart.

Scattered families,

Sullen,

Dark expressions,

Upon their face.

The impending fear of war,

Looming over us.

As the sun stays high above the clouds,

Our hope hangs low on the ground.

We are handed guns,

We are taught how to shoot,

How to follow orders,

How to take another's life.

There I stood,

Rigid in the midst of combat.

Blurred figures ran past my peripheral vision,

Blood thirsty like a ravenous dog,

Trying to protect its owner,

By eliminating the threat.

My feet wouldn't take another step toward the enemy line.

My hands were unmoving on the cold hard metal,

Of the bolt-action Springfield.

In that moment,

I realized that I would never be the same again.

 I must push it to the back of my mind,

In a corner so dark,

So that my subconscious will not resurface it.

So that it may not interfere with my duty.

For my duty is to cut down lives,

In order to defend my country.

To protect the ones I cherish,

From the bloodshed,

From the harsh reality I was faced with.

I was doomed,

 From the moment I had to write my name for the draft.