When I write.

Sacrificing

A gun for a hand, strength for heart,
He marched forth fearlessly
A sad smile, a heavy chest,
His body clung willingly to over ten killing mechines
He knew the consequences of blowing up the sun,
He knew he'd shade
His motherland from destruction.
He knew that in the process, he'd disappear himself.
But he had left a mark,
he'll be hurting them as he went.
That was the only regret,
The only thought that melted his steel
But only by a little,
For he forged on a ahead.
As he pulled the pin,
Inaugurating the dance of death,
The only thing he wished
Was for those close to him
To not hurt too much.
And the darkness consumed him,
And so many others,
But in the end,
Atleast he won.

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