The five-nines bellowing at the mob of soldiers
trudging away from the horrors of shells.

Ruby red blood bubbles beaming in the blazing heat.
Nationless corpses littering the blood-shed battlefield.

Suddenly, out of nowhere, a German soldier popped out of his trench.
BANG!
He was gone. Headshot, but the celebrations in my head caused something, something else, something horrible.
My best friend had been shot, his last words were, “Fight for King and Country”.

The horrors weren’t over. The ground started rumbling. The whole legion came storming towards the gas masks.

Gas!
Gas!
Someone shouted.

One left. One not enough.
Shall I live or shall I die, that’s the question. “I’m sorry,” I said.
I quickly put on the gas mask, his gas corrupted lungs, his froth filled mouth will haunt me till I die.
Because I killed a man.