The Last Bullet

"Move!", said a voice from behind my back, 

My weary feet obeyed; never wondered why,

Leather boots, uniform and a ragged backpack,

With a rifle on my back, pointed at the sky, 

Marching for glory, no time to look back, 

That is what I tell myself for I live a heavy lie!

"Halt!", said the voice from behind my back, 

Did I have a choice? Never stopped to think, 

Not a second was wasted, not even to wink! 

Moving on their own, my hands kissed the metal,

My feet took their stand, hawk eyes, they aimed;

Am I still me? My mind failed to claim!

"Fire!", cried the voice, fierce and cold, 

My finger pulled the trigger, it does what it's told,

I don't reason why, for am a mere soldier, 

There's no turning back, every day it is colder;

I am a part of a blade of blood lust, 

There is no stopping till the very last bullet!