Thick, murky smoke lingered in the air, completely blocking our way.
Sweat gradually dripped from the top of our gruesome gas masks,
As we fought reluctantly, for not only our country, but for our lives.

Our blood was as red as a refined rose, but the pain sharper than its thorns,
The victorious outnumbered by those in anguish, within a blink of an eye.
Yet we carried, for it was our obligation.

The sound of dying soldiers pierced our ears like a needle.
Our tears were buried behind our camouflage ,
As the final shot was taken, and so were our lives…