Still Human?

No horror?

I feel no horror.

No fear nor disgust.

Wasn't this red, dripping paste

A rational person

A distant friend

A battle-buddy

an hour ago?

His dreams, hopes, desires are splattered on the truck.

His life and loves are a chunky puddle soaking in the sand.

A torn boot found freedom in a parched field.

The foot stayed with the rest

It had grown quite attached after carrying a lifetime of recently splattered dreams.

The horror!  No horror.

A lingering sadness.

A detached coldness.

I feel unfeeling.

The tree line is leveled.

The joy!  The cheering!

The enemy paint the river rocks red.

Bury them in splinters!

What a waste of human courage.

Homeward now.

Stand tall for the customary congratulations

And even silent condemnations

And hear sanctimonious cowards explain the meaning of it all.

Something wrong with this poem?