• Just as flowers are trampled upon, so are humans. With
    Guns in hand, fingers on the trigger; ready to shoot. When
    The pebble falls from atop the decimated building, subverted
    As the men in uniform traversed over foreign soil; their
    Camouflaged military attire made them look like the
    Things they sought to exterminate. Never once did they think about what
    Other saw them as; never once did they categorize
    Themselves as the devastators; Never once did they truly define the
    Name in which they categorized the people they fought against.

    That thing they saw in their dreams last night, but failed to realize that when
    They looked in the mirror, the thing they saw was that
    Man who had slaughtered four defenseless men that other day in their own home.

    Round after round again, fired at each other absentmindedly, as
    Though each side was somewhat hypnotized by the madness, like rabid dogs. Each entity with
    Their own their, background, family, come together to form the two masses they
    Rendered as each other as the enemy. The question still lingers in the
    Man who is pierced with bullet holes, sprawled on the ground, clinging to the
    Few strands of life he had and found himself spending the
    Last few moments he had in this world asking himself: Why?