A thousand soldiers, five remained

The rest were buried without names

Scorched red flesh under the blinding sun

And they said we were the lucky ones

Burned salt stains on my cheek

Last night’s wounds still run deep

Dry tongue, blazing skin

Heart barely beating

Fool’s war, no one wins

Breath swiftly fleeting

The moon in the west fights the sun in the east

Strike too hard, scream too loud

What makes a man and what makes a beast?

Why should we be proud?


This poem was inspired by the brutal wars of colonialism and dedicated to all the lives lost from selfishness and greed. The idea actually came to me while I was writing “Moonlight Queen”, but it has a darker theme.

Published by madforskating

Confessions of a crazy skating fangirl. Your local Pair Skating Yoda. Sometimes I write about other stuff. • 17 • Asian-American • bi • she/her

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