Two
soldiers met in combat,
Each charged with a job to
do...
They
came from different countries,
Yet
their differences were few.
Each
fought for their own country's
cause,
Whether good or bad...
Each
loyal to his own beliefs,
And
that is what's so sad.
For
when they met on their last day,
It
mattered not at all,
Who
was right and who was wrong,
For
both of them would fall.
Their
features might be different,
Made
so because of their genes...
They
became close as brothers,
Where
they lay, and with their
screams
So were they all that
different?
The
answer is 'Oh No'...
They
were so very much alike,
As
death would plainly show.
They
lay where they had fallen,
With
outstretched arms and hands...
The
blood from both, ran brightest
red,
No
different... on the sands.
(c) 08/15/05 Loree (Mason)
O'Neil
Midi playing
is: Angel of
Death
