thank you zaros in the morning i will stand with them the old and the young and i will remember when god spoke and i will have a tears in my eyes god bless them all
I simply cannot imagine what it must have been like for those young men in the trenches each waiting for the order to go over the top and each praying that God had better eyesight than their supposed enemy.
And I simply daren't imagine how it must have been for those behind the first few brave souls over the top when they were forced to witness their brothers in arms been wantonly slaughtered before their very eyes.
I doubt there's a greater fear on this earth knowing you're about to face a cruel and untimely death.
However, I have often tried to imagine what it must have been like for those who were faced with no other choice but to take the life of another man and deprive his children of a father, his wife of her husband. Deprive a sister a brother. And a mother and father of their beloved son.
I spy.
I see him through my rifles aim
And the question is to kill or maim
Yet there's something I just cannot figure
Why the hell should I pull the trigger?
But if he sees me through his rifle's aim
Would he ever think the same
Or spare a thought and try to figure
Whether conscience or impulse was over the trigger?
We see each other through our rifles aim
And for one brief moment pass thoughts the same
Though I don't suppose I shall ever figure
Why the hell it was I who pulled the trigger?
Copyright © 2007 C.R.M.